GSD: Lost Memories Side Fiery Sword
by Spiritblade
Summary: The cousin chapters to Kouryuo Sabre's GSD: Lost Memories. This story contains original characters whose lives and deaths will have impact on those who will appear in Kouryuo Sabre's main story, GSD: Lion of Heaven.
1. Disclaimer

_**Heaven's Lion: Lost Memories – Chapter Fiery Sword**_

_**Original Idea by Kouryuo Saber**_

_**Written by Spiritblade**_

_**Disclaimer**_

I don't own Gundam SeeD. I don't own Lion of Heaven, which is written by Kouryuo Saber (though he gives me permission to one day tell the story through my own eyes, it's still his - period). I don't own much of the stuff I throw into the stories (the technologies and whatnot as I'm borrowing them from across the games and anime I am familiar with), but the characters themselves, and their lives, hopes, loves, hates and fears.

The characters in these stories will eventually make their appearance in Lion of Heaven, much later in the story. And so, before we meet them, before we fight alongside them, we will speak to them. Beware the man who blackens the name of another, for he may be blacker than the one he seeks to condemn – or is no less an evil than his enemy.

The world that I create, for now, may not fit with the Gundam SeeD world, as I make it of an age long, long before the Cosmic Era dawned upon the skies of Holy Terra. So, come with me, endure the strangeness as I make a universe before Kira Yamato and those who strode by his side were born. Let me return you to a time when other heroes would fight the same battles he had fought in an age of glory. Our past, our present and our future are linked together by the lives of those who have lived then and there.

Let us begin, then. You came for a good story…and I hope I have delivered.

And before we do so, let us raise a toast to Kouryuo Sabre. You inspired this. Take pride and be proud. Now finish the task you set for yourself, monumental as it may be, and know that you do not stride alone.

With regards,

Spiritblade


	2. Prologue

_**Heaven's Lion: Lost Memories – Side Fiery Sword**_

_**Original Idea by Kouryuo Saber**_

_**Written by Spiritblade**_

**Disclaimers: **All on the Disclaimer Page. Let's get on with this. The opening prologue of this story was inspired (heavily, I might add) by the Horus Heresy Novel: Descent of Angels, by Mitchell Scanlon. I read it through, and could not bloody resist. My cap's off to the man. He wrote one **hell** of an opening, before plunging me through the rest of the book.

I recommend the WH40K Horus Heresy series. It's a worthy addition to one's collection of books.

This is my second draft. Hopefully, it will sound better than the first. Special thanks to the man who helped me refine it. You know who you are.

**X X X X X X**

_**Prologue**_

_**Beginnings**_

It begins on Holy Terra.

It begins back a thousand years ago, long before the Cosmic Era dawned over the skies of our home-world, back during a near-mythic age when bonds of brotherhood and friendship was broken amidst the sounds of gods and angels waging war. Humanity had, back then, reached a technological level so advanced that the finest technological achievements of this age is but a crude imitation of that bygone era. Much had been lost in the final days of the War of Wrath, when the Imperial Dominion fell at the hand of the Church of Lordaeron and her allies.

What little remained of that glorious civilization was barely enough to keep the survivors of that cataclysmic conflict alive. Billions had perished in the battles that had raged across an entire region of space. I feel my mind refusing to accept that which my heart knows to be true. We have murdered worlds – entire worlds – to break the hold of an Empress we had once supported in her family's war against an Empire that should have fallen long ago if not for the steely determination of its loyal sons and daughters who wished to restore it to greatness. Entire cities and colonies were reduced to nothing more than ghost-haunted ruins. The wrecks of thousands of starships float in the star ocean, the names and bodies of those who had died on them lost to memory. All of these things were regarded as treasure troves to the many Junker Guilds of the present day, all of whom hope to find a fully functional Standard Construction Template – or SCT – to sell to the highest bidder.

We, the last surviving warriors of the Legion of Fiery Sword, woke from our slumber to find that a thousand years had come and gone. A thousand years: do you have any idea, Master Kouryuo, as to how long that is? Time enough for the people of Earth to forget the past and rebuild. Time enough for things we knew to become myth and fable. Time enough for them to reach once more for a dream lost during an apocalyptic war. To me and my brothers and sisters, it was like looking back in time to a simpler, more honest, age.

But, even during that more 'simple' age, the flaws of humanity would plague it as it always would through the centuries. Fate would not be so kind as to permit our race to overcome them. Lacking external enemies, it was a foregone conclusion that humanity would turn on itself. In ten centuries, over a dozen major wars and countless minor ones have been fought in the name of ideology, religion and ambition. You already know that in the past hundred years alone that there have been four major wars: The war between Earth and Mars, the First and Second Bloody Valentine Wars and the Third Interplanetary War.

But, let us focus on the Bloody Valentine Wars. We can speak of the Third Interplanetary War later, as we already know the events that have led to it. To understand the roots of the two Bloody Valentine Wars, let us return a generation back, decades after the war between Earth and Mars had ended.

The First Coordinator, George Glenn, had left the secrets of his creation in the hands of a race – he _hoped_ – would accept his gift and prepare to reclaim their lost legacy. But, you remember the old adage that the road to Hell was paved in good intentions, don't you? When George Glenn returned from space seven years later, it was not to the world that he had envisioned that would be ready to reclaim its lost glory. It was to a world divided. In George Glenn's childhood years, the memories of the Second Interplanetary War between Earth and Mars were still fresh in the minds of the people of the Earth Sphere. A tragic accident had ignited that war, and Earth had barely been able to hold the line against it more technologically-advanced adversaries of the Reyguard Empire. Cities had burned and thousands had perished in the conflict. That war had ended when a pilot of the now-defunct Earth Defense League – the predecessor of the current Earth Alliance – managed to board the Reyguard Emperor's personal flagship in his Assault Suit and killed him and his advisors. Had that war gone on any longer, there is no doubt in my mind that Earth and its surrounding regions would now be a protectorate of the Empire. And, had that been the case, the citizens of the Earth Sphere would have been spared three senseless wars.

You, Master Kouryuo, already know the reasons as to why the First Bloody Valentine War happened. You already bore witness to events that made history. Cosmic Era 71 was such a time. The collaboration between the neutral state of Orb and the EA had set into motion the events that would lead to this very day. The fateful meeting between Kira Yamato and Murrue Ramius caused the rusted gears of destiny to turn towards their inexorable conclusion. Their escape from Heliopolis; their perilous journey to Earth; their battles against a dogged enemy who was humbled in every engagement; their hopes, dreams and fears – all this you already know. You have spoken to those whose actions during the Bloody Valentine War defined all that is good about humanity.

And you already know the reasons why the Second Bloody Valentine War happened. You saw a president of a neutral nation die. Her dream, to end the war before it took her twin brother away from her a second time, would never come true. We saw treachery and betrayal. We saw death and destruction. You bore witness to the awesome ambition of a Sacred Beast to resurrect the dream of a long-dead Empress, to take power that was never meant to be grasped by human hands, and his eventual downfall. You saw convictions tested, hearts broken and heroes holding the line – and giving way. You were there, on the flagship of the Pale Rider himself, as our Order and the Reyguard Empire played their hand and invaded the Earth Sphere. Weakened and battered, the armies of the latter were incapable of fending off a determined enemy who had long been waiting for such a moment. The story that had begun a thousand years ago has yet to end, Master Kouryuo.

But, I will tell you something you do not know. The events before and after the Bloody Valentine Wars – events that have led to the Crusade – have been planned long before you were born. Don't look so surprised, Master Kouryuo. Who are these faceless men and women, you ask? What were their aims? Why did they do what they did? The answers to these questions will come in time. I will not give them to you. To do so this early would only serve to confuse you – and that will be to the detriment of my story. Or stories, as the case may be. In my experience, it is always better if you let such things build up slowly.

It occurs to me that I have been somewhat slapdash in one respect in telling this story, for I made no mention of the one man who could hold forth knowledgeably on all the topics we will discuss. I have spoken of things you already know, and people you have already met, but I neglected to mention the most important player in our drama.

I am talking about Nanaya Raiha.

Yes, this is the same Nanaya Raiha who had once, long ago, commanded one of our Order's Legions. I am talking about a young man – he is younger than me, by the way – who led an army against the many enemies of humanity. I am talking about a man reviled as a devil and worse by those he had almost died trying to protect. Your brother and sister Historians – a good majority of them – say that the reasons for his betrayal lie in his jealousy and envy of the current Divine Wolf's many victories and triumphs a millennia ago. Others say that it was due to a misplaced love for the Black Empress Allura Dracian, who had ruled over the Imperial Dominion for less than a decade before a Crusade was declared to topple her from power.

But those who repeat such things without seeking the truth behind them are blind. I tell you now that he did not betray. I know that a grand majority of those who followed him did not, either. I know these forgotten heroes and heroines well and you may rest assured that I _**am**_ well-placed to comment on their secrets. I will be impartial in my telling of them. To highlight their virtues and dismiss their vices is to do their memory a great disservice.

Poor, poor Raiha; we will get to him in time, you may be certain of that. We will get to it all in time. I will account for everything in time.

For now, the stage of my story is set.

Let us return to a glorious era over a thousand years ago, where it all began. You, Master Kouryuo, may perhaps be the only one to know the entire story – so listen well and ask questions – so as to exonerate all who have fought in this thousand-year War and lay their souls to rest. History has long been written by the victors. Its authors seek only to exalt themselves and demonize their adversaries. But, today, that will change. We have a voice still. We have yet to be crushed to the point that our enemies can say what they wish and the world will believe them.

Come, listen. You will hear my secrets.

Come listen, and we will talk of Nanaya Raiha and his comrades. We will talk of war against humanity's many enemies. We will talk of the things and the people they loved, as well as their hopes and fears. We will talk of an age that is myth and legend in the present era.

We will give voices to the dead.

Come, brother, listen; hear my secrets and truths that others call lies. Come listen, and hear with an open heart, and know that I do not lie.

Let us talk of the Legion of the Fiery Sword, and the beginnings of their Jihad.


	3. The Wandering Angel

_**Heaven's Lion: Lost Memories – Side Fiery Sword**_

_**Original Idea by Kouryuo Saber**_

_**Written by Spiritblade**_

_**Disclaimer: **_On the first page. Let's get on with this. Segments in _italics_ denote the narrator speaking.

**X X X**

_**Chapter 1: The Wandering Angel**_

_The Sheik Muhammad you've met and the one I knew were two __**different**__ people entirely, Master Kouryuo. The one you know has undergone the Resocialisation process – a process you fully well know includes personality and memory overlays. You know that he was once a citizen of the Earth Sphere, chosen via the Holy Order's Operation Harvest – a program designed to acquire, by force or otherwise, worthy recruits from the Earth Sphere – to be part of their Army when they invade it. He had a name once, one given to him by parents who loved him and an identity formed by his interactions with his peers and colleagues. It is not the false name given to him by the Chaplains – no? The Pale Rider was the one who named him? And he what…? _

_That's…unprecedented. What was so special about this one person that one of the Horsemen would sponsor his entry into the ranks of the Throne Guard? Never mind. We will find out if this impostor is worthy of the honor in time. The original Sheik Muhammad was a Field Commander – and he was not even part of the Holy Order. His parents and elder siblings were, but he chose a life outside the fold. The Wandering Angel – as I call the original Sheik Muhammad – was part of the Galactic Police._

_He joined the Holy Order much later, of course, after a particularly ugly affair that had left a well-loved Prince of the Shogunate dead. His superior's superior wanted someone to be the scapegoat, and they had earmarked several people that they would hang out to dry. Sheik was one of them._

_I'll tell you the story as he told me…and tell you the parts that he himself was not aware of – and those he and his Companions would not tell._

_I will tell you about a time when the Galactic Police, the Shin Angyo Onshi – the secret police of the Shogunate that the Holy Order had helped set up at the behest of its Founder to ensure that its rulers and its people do not prey on each other – and the Inquisition matched wits against a terrorist organization whose ideology had caused the deaths of thousands over the centuries it had existed._ _That ideology had once demanded the conversion of every human on Earth; now, with humanity spread throughout the galaxy, they desired the same – and the extermination of every alien race that dared to deny humanity the right to rule the galaxy. Their rhetoric appealed to those who loathed or feared aliens and those who had suffered from the predations from hostile alien races like the Isiri or the Ork. Married to religious dogma, this volatile cocktail of religion and xenophobia brought thousands of recruits under the banners of these terrorist factions. _

_It would have been fine had they persecuted the Isiri and the Ork, but their xenophobia was total and irrational. All aliens were legitimate targets. What the Galactic Police and the sovereign systems of the galaxy were dealing with back then was an extremist militia with the technology, the ships, the resources and the manpower to fulfill their aims. Their propaganda was a poison that killed not instantly, but by degrees. Fighting their lies – when the truth was so evident that there were aliens who viewed humanity as an inferior species worthy of either slavery or extinction – proved to be difficult in more ways than one._

**(O)**

_**3570 A.D., Vela Star System, Vela VI, Saidan City interiors, 2045 hrs**_

Alpha looked through her sniper rifle's scope, her blue eyes scanning the building where the captives were being held. Intelligence had been right this time round. The armored men and women belonged to the Illuminate Army, a blacklisted terrorist faction whose members had been responsible for the deaths of over seven hundred civilians in the past eight months. It had been a massive, but well-coordinated, operation that had left the government of the Vela Star System reeling. It had left many of its officials flabbergasted at how badly their security apparatus had failed them. And to make matters worse, a Prince of the Shogunate had been taken captive. The Prince's father, the feudal lord of one of the Shogunate-controlled systems, King Fei Huang, was enraged and demanded that the Vela System's ruling figures find his son before the dead-line given to him by the Illuminate Army expired. The authorities of the System had sprung into action, deploying hundreds of their Special Ops teams to search for the missing Prince. The Shogunate had sent in their secret police to assist, and the Galactic Police had stepped in as well. If the terrorists wanted attention, they had it – in the worst possible way.

Alpha's communicator crackled briefly before a familiar voice spoke through it, "Command to Watcher, status?"

"Watcher. Information green. Proceed to Phase-2."

"Command, roger. Stay on hand and keep your eyes and ears peeled."

"Watcher. Roger."

Alpha smiled. It had been six months since their new commander had been assigned to their unit. He had been fresh out of the Galactic Police Academy with excellent marks and recommendations from his instructors. So far, he had proven himself an excellent leader. Rare was the time ever since their new commander took over did any of the Bio-soldiers go into battle without a partner to watch their backs. Galactic Police Tactical Operations Command had decried this as an over-expenditure of vital resources, but their new commander had ignored them.

Alpha's communicator crackled to life once more, "Raptor to Watcher, when are we moving?"

Raptor was Alpha's assigned partner, the Bio-soldier Misa. The other woman was in the shadows, almost fifty meters behind her – a distance the other could cover in a heartbeat, should she be in danger. Misa was an expert with various forms of assault weaponry and martial arts. Her skill-set complemented Alpha's perfectly.

"Raptor, we wait. Command is moving the pieces in place. Oh, don't worry. Command will leave you some. He's not selfish, you know."

"That's my line, Watcher. He's worried I won't leave any for him," Misa replied, amusement in her voice.

**(O)**

Several blocks down, another Bio-soldier pulled her high-frequency sword from the corpse of the last Illuminate Army terrorist she had just dispatched. Though she was not genetically enhanced or trained from birth as the rest of her compatriots, she was just as fast as the fastest of them. Flicking the blood from her sword and nodding towards her compatriot, the young woman spoke into her communicator, "Sword to Command. Fairy and I have cleared the area. The ghosts are in position."

"Command to Sword. Stand by. And tell Fairy to not start firecrackers while we're at it."

"Roger, Command. Keep your pants on," the dark-haired girl replied, amusement in her voice.

"My pants _**are**_ on, Sword."

The dark-haired Bio-soldier, Sword, blushed, knowing how both their remarks were viewed by the operations staff on hand. The image of her going after her commander with her sword took shape in her mind, accompanied by various curses regarding his manhood and lack of respect for his betters. She could _**bloody**_ well hear the laughter on the other end of the line!

"Ahh, _oni-chan_ hentai," came the voice of the woman's smaller compatriot as she leapt down from a hole in a ceiling, her hell-pistol smoking, "Don't go after Sword-neechan, onii-chan. She'll kill you. I'm more your type, _ne?_"

"Ay…Fairy!" Sword turned redder, glowering at the impish grin the other girl was giving her.

"Fairy, do you want me to cancel your trip to the Amusement Park?" came their commander's voice over said girl's com-link. Despite the severity of the situation, the laughter that rocked the command LAV – Sword swore – could be heard by their enemies. Oh, for the love of God, why was she paired up with Ayumi instead of Misa or Miyuki?

Ayumi – or Fairy, as she was called – gave a childish whine of 'Iyaa…' that made the laughter in the Command LAV worse.

**(O)**

"Heavy Arms, Archer and Halberd are in position, Command. Area clear," a woman spoke into her com-link, her lithe form melding in the shadows of the alleyway. Behind her, two of her team-mates materialized. One of them jumped from the fourth storey of a nearby building to land lightly on the ground while the other descended on the power of her battle-suit's jet pack, the rail-gun unfolding to its full length, a soft blue pulse indicating that the weapon had powered up.

"Command to Archer, move to area Alpha-Zero-Beta 112-754 with Heavy Arms and Halberd. Confirmed enemy heavy vehicles in area: half a dozen Hunter-class light attack bots and two Archer-class AA tanks. Our heretics were prepared, after all. Excellent; I hope you girls are ready for a busy night. I'll be joining you soon with my Angels."

The woman winced. The Angels were the most notorious duo to wear the Galactic Police uniform. They were good, but the collateral damage they left behind getting the job done left much to be desired. Why GP HQ had attached the two girls to her new commander made the Bio-soldier wonder if the powers-that-be wanted to scuttle the new commander's career in short order.

"I'd rather not, Command. We would never be able to pay the debts those two can incur."

"Extreme solutions for extreme circumstances, Archer," the woman's commander replied. The blonde-haired, ochre-eyed Bio-soldier shook her head and sighed. The city government had better be ready to declare an early Independence Day celebration. She jerked her head up, suddenly, and a smile curved her lips as she readied her assault rifle. It would seem that more mice were walking into the trap.

"Command, I have mice coming my way. Proceeding with extermination..."

"Roger."

**(O)**

"Lance here," a golden-haired woman spoke into her com-link, peering from the side of the window, a silenced, scoped lasgun in one slender hand, "Command, do you copy?"

"Command here. Sit-rep."

"Area is clear. Twelve mice exterminated. Building Alpha-Bravo 747 is secure. Spear has hacked into communication network. Blanket has been completed. You are green, Command."

"Acknowledged, Lance. T-minus five minutes. Heavy Arms will be in position in t-minus 2 minutes. Initiate attack on my mark. Take only those with stripes and stars prisoners. Dispose of the rest."

"Lance, order acknowledged," the woman replied, as the communicator fell silent. She heard a sound, and swung her gun towards the room's entry. The woman released a sigh and glared at her blue-haired compatriot, who had a gun pointed at her as well, "Crystal…"

"Damn it, Cheryl," the other girl said, "You scared the hell outta' me!"

"That's my line, Crystal."

**(O)**

Within the command LAV, a young man stood erect, his eyes gazing upon the tactical holo-screen before he regarded his senior. Commander Reiko Kirihara was a beautiful, 31-year old Galactic Police Officer, with dark purple hair and dark amber eyes. The curves of her lean body were emphasized by the blue jacket and skirt she wore, and the white shirt and purple tie she wore beneath the jacket. He had been with the GPAD (Galactic Police Assault Division) 5221 for six months, and it had surprised him still to know that a good portion of the Division were women. Only the Chief Engineer and his crew, the Medical Officer and key members of his staff, were male.

Reiko had helped him fit him, and had introduced him to those he would be commanding. He had been surprised that the lovely girls who had stood at attention before him – save three – were Bio-soldiers. He had heard of them. Trained practically from birth in the arts of war, genetically enhanced, and conditioned to hardship and attrition, Bio-soldiers were one of the finest offensive weapons humanity had. A grand majority of the Bio-soldiers were women, as few men could survive the process that transformed a normal human being into a living weapon second only to the DRAGOONs or their second-generation siblings, the Valkyrie-class DRAGOONs. He had hoped, originally, to get posted to someplace peaceful, but Fate clearly had other ideas for him. The fact that his parents and siblings were part of the Holy Order did much to scuttle his plans.

So, he did what his parents taught him: he made the best of things. In his more private moments, though, he admitted that the posting was not as bad as it originally looked. When his parents and siblings had heard about his graduation and his eventual posting, they had called him up, broad grins and mischievous smiles on their faces. He did not need a psychic to tell him that – if the sexual innuendos both dropped throughout the course of the conversation were not proof enough – they were expecting grandchildren to pop out from this entire arrangement. He had asked them if they wanted to see him behind bars for the rest of his life, at which point they usually signed off, laughing.

His elder brother and sister, both twins, had been the worst. While his parents and younger siblings mostly made jibes in regards to having cousins and the like, his elder siblings often wondered if his love of seclusion had something to do with his sexual preference. And to make matters worse, as if Fate wanted to make him suffer more, Haruka (Halberd) and Misa (Raptor) had stepped into his office at that very instant, their eyes wide. He had unleashed a stream of expletives that made his siblings explode in laughter, and made him the butt of every joke for an entire month.

The headache did not end there. GP HQ assigned two of their most notorious operatives to his unit: the dreaded Lovely Angels. Sheik had heard of their 'exploits' long before he graduated, and his blood had run cold when he heard that they would be his subordinates. He had told Reiko that he would expect, sooner rather than latter, the bill for a devastated city. Reiko had laughed aloud at the hopeless, woebegone look on his face.

But, their first operations together showed that they could work as a team. It took Reiko and him some time to weld the unit together, but it worked like a charm. The girls took to one another – and him – almost instantly. The air, Reiko told him, changed when he came into the unit, becoming more dynamic and less rigid. The fact that he had come in and not thrown his rank had endeared him to the older members of the GPAD; that he had partaken in their training sessions won the admiration of those under him. He had bruises and injuries from the ordeal, but that was to be expected when one dealt with women trained to shoot first and ask questions later.

"Reiko, keep me updated. I'm heading in," Sheik said.

"Are you sure? HQ will not like it," Reiko warned him, knowing that he wouldn't care anyway.

"HQ does not need to like the way I do things. My girls are out there, Reiko. And I'm not letting them start a fight without me in the trenches. Besides, this entire affair is partly their fault," Sheik replied, before he turned to his radio officer, "Diane, patch me through to Yuri and Kei."

"Yes, sir," said the young officer. The perky and lively faces of Yuri and Kei, the Lovely Angels, appeared before him. They were clad in vests and briefs, their long legs and torsos revealed.

"Yuri, Kei, power up your Loyalists."

Kei, her short mane of auburn hair kept in order by a headband, grinned, "You got it, boss."

The other Lovely Angel, the raven-haired Yuri, nodded, "Are you coming with us for the party, boss?"

"I wouldn't be able to earn my pay otherwise," Sheik replied, "I'll be out in five. We start the attack when Alpha gives the green."

"Got it, boss," Kei said, before signing off.

"Boss, I think Commander Reiko said this to you, but HQ won't be pleased," Yuri said when her feisty cousin signed off.

"And like I told her, the higher-ups will learn to live with my methods – especially since this entire fiasco with the Illuminate Army is partially their fault in the first place," Sheik dead-panned, "Oh, and Yuri…try not to lower property estate with indiscriminate gunfire, please. The targeting sensors on your Loyalists are the best, after all. You and Kei don't want a reputation for being bad shots, do you?"

Yuri glared at him, before chuckling, "I'm a good shot, chief. It's just that the enemy love making my life difficult."

The second Lovely Angel signed off, and Sheik rubbed his temples. He would get even with GP HQ's Manpower Division one day – and he would have Yuri and Kei send the bill with their Loyalists if need be! And if his parents and siblings had something to do with his posting, he would make sure they had a trip out the air-lock without a spacesuit! Sheik turned to Reiko, "You have the con, Reiko. I'll go earn my pay."

"Be careful, Sheik-kun."

**(O)**

_I admit that when I look at the imposter, I am reminded of the original. They're alike in many ways, but different where it matters. The Sheik you know is warm; the one I knew was a force of nature. How was he a force of nature? Simple. Sheik preferred to enter combat equipped with assault weaponry. Plasma swords and fusion guns were his favored weapons. You know how deadly these weapons are – and you know that the only disadvantage to both of them is their range._

_My instructor back in the Throne Guard used to tell me that there are two reasons why some men and women throughout the galaxy will use such a combination. The first is that they would try to overcome their shortcomings through sheer power. The second was so that they _**never**_ forgot the odds they were playing with. Sheik Muhammad – the Wandering Angel – was the latter._

(O)

Commander Reiko Kirihara, senior CO of the GPAD 5221, let out a long breath after she announced that the operation was over and that Vela's Police Department would be cleaning up after them. It had been a risky, launching an attack within the city itself. The fact that the Illuminate Army had managed to acquired six Hunter-class light attack bots and two Archer-class AA tanks told Reiko that they either had managed to smuggle them onto the planet – or the Vela military had a leak somewhere.

Reiko picked up a headset, "Command to Fiery Crown. I need a check on the Archer AA tanks."

Sheik's voice emerged from the com-set, "On it already, Empress. Halberd is checking the tanks with Fairy. Watcher is checking the identification numbers on the Hunters that Heavy Arms and the rest managed to leave in one piece. Give me a moment…"

Sheik cut her off briefly.

"Empress, whatever it was you were thinking earlier, keep it there," Sheik spoke five minutes later, "Inform up to Level 3."

"Roger," Reiko put down the head-set before slamming a fist down on the console, effectively silencing the jubilant crew in the command LAV. How she hated it when her hunches were right. The Hunter bots and the Archer AA tanks were brought on-planet through proper channels – and that meant that someone in the Vela government was behind the abduction of Prince Eldon Fei.

The question was who was it, and why.

**(O)**

Sheik turned back to Alpha, "Are you very sure that the identification numbers on those vehicles were Velan, Alpha?"

The blonde Bio-soldier sub-commander nodded, "I've confirmed it. Crystal hacked – discretely, not to worry – into the Velan military network under the guise of one of its Regimental Logisticians. The numbers matched those of a military consignment from an Antares military firm dated ten months ago. The records also show that six Hunter-class bots and two Archer AA tanks were scrapped due to severe defects in the weapons and engine array – the same ones," Alpha nodded to the still-burning wrecks of the Hunters and the AA tanks, "Yuri and the others took out."

The censorious look on the Bio-soldier's face was hard to miss. Sheik could tell that Alpha disapproved of his earlier actions; the bandages Ayumi had wrapped around his arm after she had utilized her healing Techniques to seal the wounds bespoke of how close he had been to being killed. The young commander cleared his throat, looking flustered, before returning the subject to its original topic, "Who authorized the destruction of the 'defective' units?"

"The Chief Logistician of the 721st Velan Army Regiment," Alpha replied, "I would suggest we look into him, sir."

"Your suggestion is noted, Alpha. Commander Kirihara's intuition may be spot on, even if I don't like the direction it is heading. All of this, Alpha, suggests that the Illuminate Army had been planning for this. The only question in Kirihara's – and my – mind is how was it possible that the Illuminate Army knew that Prince Eldon would be visiting Vela? Could there be a traitor in his father's house-hold?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions, chief. For all we know, they could have taken some other high-ranking official from another system hostage and made the same demands," another voice spoke as the lean figure of Haruka, codenamed Halberd, strode towards him, "Prince Eldon was the juiciest target of the lot."

"Or was he the target in the first place?" Sheik countered, "You know that Prince Eldon is the favored heir-apparent to his father's throne. Could this be a political conspiracy?"

"It would not hurt to keep that in mind," Haruka said, her beautiful face contemplative, "The Shogunate always loved their byzantine intrigues that the galaxy would be better off without."

"Seconded," Sheik said, before turning back to Alpha, "Get the girls back to the _Arcadia_. I will debrief them there…and inform them of the latest happenings."

Alpha saluted and left him and Haruka alone. The young commander closed his eyes and let out a long breath, before turning his gaze to the starry skies above him. His old dream of a peaceful posting somewhere in the galaxy was beyond his reach now. His instructor had sternly told him that there was no way in seven heavens and nine hells was he ever going to have an easy life in the GP; the glamour of the recruitment posters belied the fact that the job was risky, hard and, sometimes, thankless. Though, he had to admit, sneaking a glance at the curvaceous form of Haruka, though covered in soot, there were advantages.

Haruka saw the glance and grinned playfully, "I saw you peeking, you pervert."

**(O)**

_**Arcadia, GP battleship, two hours after the operation…**_

"That took a while," Marie said as she walked down from the armored gunship that served as the GPAD 5221's main deployment vehicle, "Wonder why it took the chief so long to get us clearance…"

"Heard that some of the higher-ups in the Velan PPD had some questions they wanted the Chief to answer. Commander Kirihara was with him, so you need not worry," the raven-haired Saeko said, "You were lucky he knocked you out of the way, Marie. Had he not, you would have ended up badly injured."

"I know. I'll apologize to him later," the chestnut-haired Bio-soldier said, "I should not have been so careless."

"Can't blame her for it, Saeko," Misa said, emerging from gunship, "The Illuminate Army freaks were all over the place. Intelligence said there were 50 or so in the area, but I counted at least a hundred – and that's not including those you, Ayumi, Crystal and Cheryl took out."

"But, all in all, we did well. Our commander's plans have not backfired, yet…" Saeko said, "He's still a greenhorn in my books, and has a long way to go before he earns my respect."

"He's still your superior, Saeko. Remember that," Haruka said, "And the GP is not a democracy. We all have our roles to play. And don't worry. Commander Kirihara is still our overall commander. She'll pass the baton when she deems Sheik is ready for the job."

"Which I doubt he will be," Saeko deadpanned, "I still prefer the days when Commander Reiko was the commander."

"Commander Kirihara has many responsibilities, Saeko," Alpha said as she, Miyuki and Ayumi descended from the ship, "Sheik helps by lessening the load. In fact, Commander Kirihara gets more sleep than before. Our man is a workaholic at the best of times."

"And suicidal," Saeko deadpanned, remembering how her heart almost stopped when Sheik tackled Marie out of the way when one of the Illuminate Army terrorists fired a plasma gun at her. The use of his Techniques had allowed him to cross the distance within a nanosecond to get Marie out of the way, though he had suffered secondary burns from the miniature star that had blasted past him, melting the carapace armor he had worn. A giggle made Saeko turn to glare at Ayumi. The green eyes of the latter looked at the former knowingly.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Ayumi?" Saeko asked the smaller girl, trying to suppress the heat that was creeping up her neck.

"Saeko-neechan is so cute. She's blushing!" Ayumi grinned, "She likes Sheik-oniichan! That's why she likes to beat him silly during our training sessions!"

"Ayumi…!" Saeko exploded, her face going through all the shades of a glorious sunset, "Don't put words in my mouth, Ayumi! Why would I like someone like him? He's so…so…"

Haruka gave Saeko a friendly slap, "Don't burst a blood vessel, Sa-chan. Take it easy. Ayumi is just teasing you. Unless, of course, if your reaction is any indication…"

"Do you want to die, Haruka?" Saeko glared at her team-mate. Haruka gave a strangled 'eep!' when she saw the insane grin on the dark-haired girl's face, and took several steps back. Despite the fact that Saeko was human, her focus, speed and reflexes were easily the equal of any Bio-soldier. Married to her Techniques, she was capable of executing combos that Haruka had seen reduce a platoon of trained, armored soldiers to sushi in short order.

Haruka's answer was cut short by as a Dragonfly transport, bearing the stylized emblem of the Lovely Angels that included the unit markings of the GPAD 5221, landed in the hangar bay of the _Arcadia_. The two Loyalist heavy-siege bots belonging to the two girls (or Angels of Widespread Destruction, as GP called Yuri and Kei) were secured in the transport's powerful magnetic clamps. The Dragonfly transport was aptly named; it looked like the insect it was named after. Its landing array resembled the insect's legs, and these spread out, allowing it to stabilize itself and its load upon landing.

"The commander's back, you two," Alpha spoke, "Knock it off."

The pressure door of the Dragonfly opened, and the girls saw their Division Commander and their Field Marshal emerge, the expressions on their faces telling them that whatever had taken place on-planet had not gone well. Reiko spoke to Sheik briefly, before leaving the hangar bay. The latter nodded, and watched the former leave. Yuri and Kei descended from the transport seconds later as the Dragonfly powered down, their faces lacking the good-humor that would be there following a good 'thumping of criminals and low-life scum who would be lucky to spend their life behind bars'. The two girls looked at Sheik, before turning to look at their compatriots. Kei shook her head minutely, a gesture everyone caught.

Sheik rubbed his left eye, tracing an invisible line from his left eyebrow down to his jaw, before slamming his fist on the nearest _**steel **_crate…leaving a deep dent there, before storming off.

"I think it's safe for me to say that we'd best leave Commander Kirihara and Commander Sheik alone for now," Cheryl said. None of the girls disagreed. This was the first time they had seen such a display of rage from their commander, and suffice to say, it frightened them.

**(O)**

_The Wandering Angel had his share of secrets and regrets. We all do. Mistakes we made that we can never undo, no matter how much we try to right them. Lovers we left behind for one reason or another, only to return to find them in the arms of another. A dream surrendered, because of the impossibility of its fulfillment. Homes we could not return to, because they no longer existed, or because those living within them no longer wanted those cast out as part of their lives._

_Wounds can heal, given time and distance. We forget the pain and the events that opened those wounds in the first place. But, sometimes…sometimes, we can never forget. The wounds that remain from when they were first opened define us and shape us. Without these precious scars, we are half the men and women we believe ourselves to be._

_I've heard that all those who are happy all the same, but those who are troubled and tormented are truly unique individuals. Joy and happiness are fleeting things, but anger and sorrow leave a mark on the soul. Believe me that, whoever said those words – bitter as they are – probably knew more about life than you or I ever could. _

**(O)**

Sheik stared out the armor-glass window, gazing out upon the vast, starry expanse of a realm that many alien races, including humanity, vied for dominion over. He tried to suppress the raging fury that had erupted when the Velan Minister of Internal Security spoke to him on matters that he believed had no relevance to the mission his superiors in GP HQ had tasked him with; he was sorely mistaken. It had everything to do with him.

The Galactic Police officer stood up from his chair and strode towards the work-table, switching on the quantum computer as he did so. The QC lit up as a melodious voice from its A.I. greeted him, "Good morning, Commander Sheik. It is 12th December 3570, time 0630 hours. You are up early."

The holographic image of a lithe woman clad in robes of crimson and gold materialized before him. She wore an ornate breastplate and a matching cuirass over her robes, imitating the fashion of the Knightly Orders of the Kingdom of Antares. The holographic image's dark blue hair was tied in a long, thick ponytail and her soft grey eyes caused his heart to ache. The _Arcadia_'s A.I. and her physical aspect were modeled after his childhood friend – a girl who had been his first love, and who had given her life to save him. Not surprising, as the one who built the _Arcadia_ was the girl's father – a genius of a man who had fought to ensure that the daughter he loved would be by the side of the boy she wanted to marry.

"Good morning, Mikoto," he smiled at the hologram, "I know. I need some information regarding the Illuminate Army's movements in the past 16 months from GP HQ. Can you link up with the GP HQ mainframe at Rigel?"

"I can but it will take 15 minutes," the A.I. replied before pausing briefly, "Are you all right, Commander? You sound…troubled."

"Mikoto, Commander Kirihara made a hypothesis based on nothing more than a hunch – considering her love of suspense-thriller novels – but one that struck closer to home than I would have liked. And the Velan Minister of the Interior tells me in person that there is more to this entire affair than meets the eye. I have spoken with an agent of the Shin Angyo Onshi just hours ago, and I have this sick feeling in my gut that all of this is a prelude for something worse to come."

"Like…?" Mikoto prompted.

"I don't know until I have all the facts, but I have reason to believe that King Huang Fei may be staring in the face of a system-wide uprising led by either Prince Eldon, or by one of his royal siblings," Sheik said before sitting down and opening several folders and documents regarding the Fei Royal Family that guarded one of the key frontier systems of the Shogunate, "I could be wrong on this, but the way things are within the Maksutov constellation's second star system…it could well be a foregone conclusion. But, thing is, who in their right mind would make a deal with the terrorists?"

Mikoto closed her eyes, studying the data and the reports stored within the _Arcadia_'s massive databanks, before replying, "Him," before highlighting and opening a document on Crown Prince Julian Fei, "and these two," and bringing into view two documents on Princess Lisa Fei and Duchess Tania Fei. Sheik looked at the faces of the Crown Prince and the two Princesses, as memories he thought long-dead stirred from their long torpor.

"I hope our assumptions are wrong, Mikoto. Because if they aren't, a lot of people are going to die – one way or another," Sheik said, "Oh…and Mikoto, after you get the data I requested from Rigel, plot a course towards my home-world at Procyon. I…want to visit…" _our _"my home, if that is all right with you."

Mikoto smiled, the expression gentle, before she dematerialized. Left alone now, Sheik pulled open the drawer to his side and removed a small picture taken over five years ago. It held the picture of himself, a younger Mikoto, and their classmates – a good number of who had perished in the devastating attack by the fundamentalist Christian, anti-alien terrorist group Cross of Purity. Many of his schoolmates had been half-breeds, with alien blood in them, making them (and the school) legitimate targets in the eyes of the group. Had Mikoto not protected him from the blast, he would have died as well. He was lucky that he lost only his eye, had two of his ribs broken and his lungs and spleen punctured; the explosion had ripped through two entire school blocks, killing dozens and wounding many more.

His wounds healed. The scars caused by that event, however, remained.

**(O)**

_**Procyon Star System, Galactic Police Planetary HQ, Elohim City, Procyon III, 17**__**th**__** December 3570 A.D., 0730 hrs**_

The _Arcadia_ sailed serenely into its allocated dock at the Procyon III's Galactic Police HQ, before magnetic clamps emerged from the dockside and attached themselves to the battleship's armored hull, holding the massive ship in place. The pressure door opened and a walkway extended as its crew emerged, jubilant and cheery. It had been months since they had shore leave, and all of them were looking forward for a night in town. But, first, it was tradition amongst the crew to have breakfast together before they went their separate ways. The members of GPAD 5221 descended last with the division's two commanders in tow.

Of the 24 seaside docks, only 7 were occupied, Reiko saw. She raised one eyebrow upon seeing a familiar ship. The amethyst and gold prow of the _Star Throne_ was not one she would forget, considering that it belonged to her classmate, Kyla Harrison, commander of the GPAD 5723. The GPAD 5723 was a force larger than the 5221, consisting of close to a hundred well-trained operatives with years of combat and operational experience. Reiko rubbed her temples; the last thing she needed was a face-to-face meeting with her rival.

Sheik had seen her expression, and followed her gaze. A look of brief amusement crossed his face, before he slipped one arm around the older woman's slender waist, "Don't worry about it. Mikoto tells me that Kyla will be leaving Procyon III this afternoon, so the chances of you seeing her are negligible."

"You have never won the lottery, Sheik," Reiko said playfully, before her expression took a more serious cast, "Are you going there?"

Her younger subordinate nodded, his eyes hooded, "It has been six years, Reiko. It is long overdue that I pay my respects. I want to remember the reasons why I put on this uniform…and where I am going."

"Then go. But remember that I expect you and the girls to be at the _Cosmic Bistro _by 2000 hours. Am I clear? Those reservations were not easy to get. If you run out on me like the last time, I _**will**_ tan your ass, no matter how good your excuses are," Reiko mock-threatened, "And that is _**before**_ I throw you out the airlock."

"200 credits that say that Commander Kirihara will carry out her threat," Ayumi called out, her enhanced hearing picking out the purple-haired female commander's threat and seeing a chance to put her favorite onii-chan in the spot.

"You're on," Haruka grinned, shooting Sheik a playful look, "I believe that the plasma knife Commander Kirihara has will be used."

"Count me in," Misa chimed, "I raise you 250. Weapon used: nerve whip."

"300 credits," Kei shouted out from the front of the group, giving her commander a 'peace' sign, "on that the Commander will do it anyway – and not because he came late for the date. Weapons used: the _Arcadia_'s main guns!"

Sheik stared at the girls in disbelief. What was this? A 'Sheik Must Die' lottery…? (1)

"Sheik…" Reiko said, recapturing his attention and redirecting them to four figures that stood patiently at the end of the pier. Sheik's eyes widened in recognition as he released Reiko and descended the walkway, stopping only when he was but several feet from the small group that had emerged from the customs building minutes ago.

**(O)**

Sheik stood before the Hayase family for the first time in six years since the terrorist attack that had taken their daughter away from them. Makoto Hayase stood beside his Syreen wife, Diva, and their two teenage children, who stared at the man who had been their eldest sibling's boyfriend. Sheik bowed before the man who had crafted the _Arcadia_, and who had set him on his path, "Father."

"Welcome home, Sheik-kun. It has been six years," and the grey-eyed Master Engineer raised his head to look at the bevy of girls that stood several feet away, watching the entire scene with curiosity etched on their faces. He raised an eyebrow, seeing that a good majority of them had the sword-through-helix symbol of the GP's Bio-soldier divisions on their uniforms. Two of those he knew: the Lovely Angels, the most troublesome pair of agents the GP had in its employ – these two were notorious, and their ways left much to be desired. He liked them already. The last was an older woman, clearly Sheik's superior, and overall commander of the Assault Division his (would have-been) son-in-law was part of.

"It has, father. My father in Lordaeron sends his regards. Mikoto is doing well, by the way. She's securing the ship and will be joining us shortly," Sheik said, "But tell me one thing…how did you know I was coming?"

"Mikoto sent me a message when you gated in-system," Makoto replied, "Regardless…"

"Introduce us to your harem," Diva interjected playfully, "It has been a long time, little tiger. And your taste in women has improved. They're gorgeous…all of them!"

The blood shot up through the younger man's face and he peered over his shoulder. He began to sweat bullets. What he saw was that a majority of the girls had grown horns and tails and sported sparkly eyes and crescent moon grins (and fangs). Diva had signed his death warrant. Reiko was giggling off to one side at Diva's use of the 'Harem' word, and at the terrified look on Sheik's face. Many commanders with all-female Bio-soldier Divisions were said to command their own harems – and no few of them had affairs with the lovely, bio-engineered angels created out of necessity to confront aliens and criminals who had the abilities and allies to make their apprehension difficult.

"They're not my harem…!" Sheik fired back at the Syreen woman, before turning redder than before.

"Not yet we aren't!" Ayumi shouted out, "But he's seen us naked before!"

Sheik fainted, eyes swirling and smoke pouring out of his ears. The two teenage Hayase children, blushing crimson from the overload of sexual innuendoes, gave strangled shrieks and demanded to know what the adults around them were trying to do to their big brother.

"Awww…you broke him, Ayumi-tan!" Kei grumped, "Now we'll need an hour to cool off his engine and wake him up!"

Reiko laughed even harder. Homecomings were good things after all.

**(O)**

While the Hayase children and Diva got to know the members of the Assault Division, Makoto and Sheik were having a private talk on the balcony. The Chief Engineer was surprised by how much the younger man had grown. No longer was this the immature boy he had once reprimanded his eldest child for loving, but one who had become the hero she had once written about in the novels she sold under a pen-name. Sheik was not a citizen of Procyon. His original home-world was light-years away, in the Shogunate. Or, at least it had once been part of the Shogunate before the Second War caused several systems to break away from the massive hegemony that was second only to the Solar Empire.

"I see you still carry your father's sword," Makoto said, indicating the weapon that the younger man wore with his wineglass, "How is he, by the way?"

"Mother and father are doing well, as are my siblings. Mother is pregnant, last I heard, but I couldn't return home in time to welcome my baby sister. And from the way things are going, I won't be able to attend her first birthday, either,"

"The abduction of Prince Eldon Fei by the Illuminate Army," Makoto said.

"Yes. And the fact that Reiko," he nodded towards his purple-haired superior who was helping Diva and Haruka with the food, "made the all-too-accurate assumption has left me feeling that I am way in over my head. Prince Eldon is a good man, from all I've heard, compared to his siblings or his father."

"Don't judge a man on all that you see or hear of him," Makoto said, _'Because I made that mistake once,' _"And didn't you know Eldon back from your school days?"

Sheik nodded, "And I know the three people who would most likely benefit – outside of Eldon – from this entire affair. All three are royals."

Makoto raised an eyebrow, "And they are…?"

Sheik told him. The Chief Engineer put his wineglass down, and regarded the younger man carefully, "Is this…?"

"It is not," Sheik met the older man's grey eyes, "This is not about me. This is about thousands of innocents who will suffer if it comes to pass. If I stand here and let that horror happen again without my trying to stop it, then I should have died six years ago. If they are guilty of the crimes I told you, they will be making their excuses to the Shogunate Emperor in person; the Shin Angyo Onshi will see to that long before I do anything drastic."

"Vengeance and justice are two different things entirely, Sheik."

"I have never forgotten that, father. But, sometimes, I cannot help but see no difference in them."

"Do you remember what your father told you when he gave you Odessa Cross?" Makoto asked, referring to the plasma sword the younger man carried.

"How could I forget? Ask not whom you are killing, but who…"

**(O)**

…_You are letting live._

_Those are words spoken by a man who knows his place in the world, and who knows that the world is not black and white, but shades of grey. I think we have gone far enough for me to divulge some secrets regarding the Wandering Angel. The people who raised him were not his real parents, but they had raised and loved him as one of their own. His siblings accepted him the day they hugged him. I don't think the Wandering Angel would have asked for more, even if he knew who his biological parents were._

_Now, to answer that question..._

_Odessa Cross – does the name sound familiar? Yes. It was the name of the female Shogunate General who led the revolt against the Scarlet Moon Grand Duchy of the Shogunate, and who had died trying to free her people from the tyranny of its System Lord during the First Crimson War in 3530 A.D. She was also the woman loved by the man who gave the Wandering Angel life. It is the name of the sword the same man had given his son as a farewell gift, as neither he nor his mother wanted to raise him in a world ravaged by war._

_Who was the mother?_

_Have you heard of her? The immortal Rune-mistress…? The Betelgeusian woman called the Silver Siren? Yes. She was the one. The Seductive Angel – as she was called by her many lovers – is Sheik's mother. She is the same person who fought in the First and Second Crimson Wars – among many others – by his father's side. Ah, I see understanding in your eyes. You have made the link, I see. Yes, you are right. The Wandering Angel's father is the one they called the Lightning Knight. I can see the confusion. Why would someone who's so straight up and down take someone like the Silver Siren as a lover? Was he tempted? Did he lose control? Did the Siren seduce him?_

_Yes to all three. Remember her sobriquets; they were well-deserved. The Silver Siren was very, very beautiful. She had decades of experience to hone her skills in seduction and love-making. She knew how to use her physical charms and play mind games. Few men – Sheik's father among them – could resist her. But that was not all there was to her. The Siren was also a powerful and skilled Rune-mistress and Technique User. Few Technique Users or Rune-masters in the army that fought in the First and Second Crimson Wars were ever her equal. _

_Forgive me. You have questions…? Was Sheik the only child of the Silver Siren?_

_Yes, he was. How do I know this…? Simple: Betelgeusian tradition states that the mother must mark her firstborn child with the sigils of her family. Those born second or third will not receive it. I have seen the sigils of the Siren's face when she called upon her powers; they match the Wandering Angel's line for line. _

_And the second question?_

_Was the son made of sterner stuff? No, he wasn't, Historian. In fact, it is almost safe to say that father and son were cut from the same cloth. Both made – and left – their mark in ways that mattered to those who loved them. One fought for freedom and justice; the other fought to defend Creation. Reward, to them, was immaterial. _

**(O)**

_**Hakuryo High School, Elohim City, Procyon III, 17th December 3570 A.D., 1230 hrs**_

Hakuryo High School had changed in the last six years, the young man saw as he exited the auto-cab. Four, no, five new classroom blocks had been constructed in the past half-decade, indicating that the student population was at least twice that of when he had studied here. He turned to study his surroundings. The same sakura trees…

…_where medical workers had gathered before rushing into the devastated school with emergency kits and stretchers._

…were still there, sakura petals (_ashes) _wafting in the wind. The park across the road, where he had once sat with his classmates, playing the flute his mother had him from Lordaeron.

_The field was where emergency aid workers had tended as best as they could to his shattered body, when he had gazed upon the endless sky, calling for his parents to help him, calling for Mikoto…_

The songs he played were lyrics from Betelgeuse, which were more to his liking than other genres. In time, his schoolmates – particularly those who were attached – began to frequent the park more frequently, especially during break-times and after school. They knew he would be there, playing his flute for Mikoto, her younger siblings and her friends.

_Many of those familiar faces now lied buried beneath the cold earth, their screams and moans of agony replacing the applause that he always received when he had finished playing._

The young man turned and walked towards the gates. He was immediately stopped by two security guards, both of whom were armed with stun pistols and batons. Both wore the uniform of a well-respected security company run by an ex-military commander. They studied him carefully, trying to discern if he was a threat to the safety of the school and its students, before asking him his reasons for entering the premises. He told them that he was once a student of the school, and that he had come back to visit his alma mater. He drew his I.D. from his coat and handed it to the guards.

Their eyebrows shot to their hairlines the moment they saw the Galactic Police sigil and its Assault Division markings on it. The crimson color of the translucent I.D. card denoted the young man as the division's Tactical Commander. They looked at him in disbelief. Most TCs of the Galactic Police's Assault Divisions were in their mid-twenties. This kid looked like he barely left boot camp. The guards studied the I.D. once more, before the older one swept it over a palm-top he pulled out of his jacket. The light flashed green and details regarding the young man were displayed on the 15" holo-screen. Yup, as the man's I.D. had stated, he was a GP Tactical Commander. He had landed just this morning and…

The security guard's eyes gave a strangled gasp before turning his gaze on the young man before him once more

"You're here to visit the Memorial, am I right?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Very well, sir. Please report to the main office. And thank you for your time," the older man said before returning the I.D. card to the young GP commander, and removing his cap in a gesture of respect. The man bowed and strode towards the school's administrative office. Seconds later, the older man's younger colleague asked him what caused his senior's change in attitude.

"That kid was a student here six years ago back when the those Cross of Purity bastards managed to detonate a bomb here in this same place," the older security guard replied, much to his junior's shock, "His name was among the names of those who were badly wounded in the blast. It ripped through two entire school blocks, so you can guess how powerful the bomb was."

"How did those assholes manage to get a bomb that powerful into the school, Mike?"

"I wish I knew, Seta," the older guard replied, "I wish I knew…"

**(O)**

It did not take him long to acquire a Visitor's Pass from the office, and their reaction had been no different from the security guards who had stopped him earlier. The conversation he had with the school principal, however, had cost him the better part of a well-spent hour. It cheered him to know that many familiar faces yet remained. His feisty yet fair Advanced Mechanics teacher; his Betelgeusian music instructors – a husband and wife team – who had instructed him in the legends of his biological mother's home-world and its stories and songs; his Galactic History teacher and his Physical Education Instructor – they were all still working here. The Principal of Hakuryo High School, Megumi Kyoko, studied the young man who was looking at the newly-acquired trophies the school's teams had won. He stopped at one, won by the kendo team six years ago, and ran his gloved hand over the glass tenderly. Behind the trophy was a picture of the team; his young, grinning face, held out a 'peace' sign while Mikoto (though not part of the team) had him in a head-lock. He knelt down, then, to study another photo, this time of the swimming team the eldest daughter of the Hayase family had been part of. That picture had been taken after they had won second place in the System Championships, a great honor for a provincial school. Kyoko remembered that day well; the cheers that had rocked the school when she announced the news could be heard for blocks.

And the smile on Sheik's face told her that he remembered that day clearly as well. She stood up, "I hope you don't mind if I accompany you on your walk-about, Sheik. I think it's time I checked up on my students and staff."

The young man stood up, "I don't mind, Kyoko-san."

"Oh, Sheik, before I forget, there are some things I have to tell you…"

**(O)**

The young Homeroom teacher of Class 2C stood there in frozen shock as she regarded a face that she thought she would never see again. Her textbook lay discarded and forgotten on the floor as her mouth tried to voice the name of the young man who stepped into the class. Her reputation among the students for being a feisty and strict instructor fell apart then and there as tears spilt from her blue eyes. Memories, bittersweet and painful, washed away the years of resentment and disappointment when she saw the reason why. Beneath the coat he wore was the uniform of a Galactic Police officer, the mark of his oath made manifest.

The young man smiled and said the three words the young teacher had longed to hear, "I'm home, Anya."

The young teacher wailed and barreled into her classmate, sobbing and uttering his name like a prayer as Sheik's strong arms wrapped around her. She did not see the flash of a digital camera capture that precious moment and consign it to history.

**(O)**

Anya Kremer sat with four of their ex-classmates in a circle around the friend who had left them over five years ago to fulfill an oath he had sworn before the father of the girl who had died protecting him. It had taken Anya less than ten minutes to gather them together, and less than five to declare any and all lessons with the five teachers as free periods. Principal Kyoko had approved it on the spot, but demanded to sit in for a long-awaited talk with her former student.

And they listened as Sheik told them what had happened in the past five years. He told them of his training in the GP Academy and the difficulty of acquiring academic qualifications as he did so. The strain had been tremendous, but he had pulled through. He told them of the friends and rivals he had made in the GP Academy, and of his eventual posting – the last, after he told them, had everyone in stitches. He told them of his missions with the girls of the GPAD 5221.

"Man, Sheik," one of his friends said, "I'm jealous. With so many babes around you, why don't you…ouch! Anya…!"

"Sheik is not a pervert, you jackass," Anya scowled at her friend.

"With all due respect, Anya," Sheik chuckled, "I think that's set to change. And these are Bio-soldiers we're talking about. If they have decided on that course of action, they have the strength and the numbers to take the decision out of my hands…and make me love it."

Anya pinched him in mock-spite, "Pervert."

"And proud of it," Sheik dead-panned, causing everyone – including Principal Kyoko – to explode in laughter, before his expression became serious once more, "I love those girls, Anya. I am not afraid to say it out loud. And that is why I will go through the fire with them. I will not resign my post or ask for a transfer, no matter what you – or anyone else – say."

Anya's smile was gentle, but full of pain, "I know. That's the one thing Mikoto loved about you. You have always cared for others more than yourself – and you were loyal. Had I more sense back then, I would have tried to steal you away from her. Come on, let's go see her, shall we…?"

**(O)**

The Memorial Garden was located behind the school, on top of the same hill where Mikoto's father had proposed to the Syreen who had snared his heart with her devotion over two decades ago. It was the place where he and Mikoto had first made love, three months before the attack that killed her. The entire area had been developed; the woods that had once made this place a serene hideaway was gone. In its place were gleaming tiles and benches. There was a small group of students who were lounging nearby, but Sheik and his companions paid them no mind.

His breath caught as he saw the beautiful, well-sculpted statue of Mikoto Hayase, gazing down at him. She and three other girls stood in the centre of a fountain overlooking four separate pathways leading to a circular base where the names of those who had died in the terrorist attack six years ago were engraved on gleaming brass plates. The young GP commander ran his hand over the cool metal, tracing out the name of his long-dead girlfriend, before meeting the stone eyes of the angel who stood over him.

"I'm sorry I didn't come here for so long, Mi-chan," Sheik began, "I know I should have, but I had a promise to keep – and I didn't want to face you until I had seen it through. It took me six years, Mikoto, but I've done it," and he untied the knot and undid the buttons that kept his coat together, revealing the uniform he wore beneath, "I'm now part of the Galactic Police. I was assigned upon graduation to command one of the GP's Bio-soldier Assault Divisions. And yes, Mikoto, they are all women. And no, I am not going to peep, molest or manhandle them in any way. I do want to live to a ripe old age, you know...

"But, they're sweet girls…and my commanding officer is a good woman. I cannot help but love them more than I should, Mikoto. Am I wrong in doing so? I don't know. I'm scared of the fact that, one day, one of them will take your place in my heart and my memories. I don't want to forget you, nor soil the memories of the times we had together," and he paused, studying his surroundings, "I still remember the sunset that day. It was so beautiful the way it turned your eyes to silver and deepened the blue shades of your hair and made your skin shine with warmth…it stole my breath away.

"I wonder, Mi-chan…would our children have been that beautiful…?"

He did not see the eyes of those behind him widen, nor did he hear Anya's shocked exclamation wondering as to how he could have known that.

"I have always wondered why you never told me about your pregnancy. Were you unaware that our children were sleeping in your womb, waiting to see the sky? I suppose you were. But, I wonder…would they have had your hair and eyes? Would they have had mine? Would they have your tomboyish, free-spirited ways, or would they be like me? I would have loved to have seen them, Mi-chan, if only but for a moment. I would have sold my soul to hold them and have them live. I would have traded everything if only I could have given you a fighting chance six years ago to have lived through that attack.

"But I know that the past is set in stone. I know then as I knew now that there was no way I could have saved you. But you, with the last of your strength, saved a useless idiot like me. You refused to die until you managed to ensure my safety. You managed to drag both of us to the main courtyard where the emergency crews managed to find us…" Sheik's voice started to shake, "I remembered the fear and the pain. I remembered wanting, more than anything, to live. I didn't care who had to take my place on the ferry. And you know, I remembered seeing you smile…I remembered your last breath, and I remember the weight of your body on mine when our strength finally gave way.

"But, above all, I remembered your last words…"

The GP commander drew in a deep breath to regain his composure. He remembered the three months he had spent in Elohim City's hospital in the aftermath of the attack, watching as his friends suffered through the agony of their wounds and the realization that the friends they once walked to school or grew up with were dead. Each day had been a fresh hell. He remembered the gloating image of one of the Cross of Purity's high-ranking officials on the holo-screen as he praised his 'brothers and sisters within the Procyon System' for striking a blow against the 'alien infidel, the impure and the traitors of humanity'. The terrorist leader had ended the message by praising God, and asking the Almighty to grant them victory over all three. He remembered the words of his parents, who had flown all the way from Lordaeron, telling him not to caution justice with vengeance. He remembered the look on the face of his would-have-been father-in-law when he was told that his daughter had died…and that she had been pregnant. The agony on the older man's face and his family was one seared into Sheik's soul, an image multiplied many times over on the faces of countless grieving families who had lost their children, and had led to an oath being made in blood.

And new memories rose to the fore, memories that washed away the anger and regret. He remembered laughing and crying. He remembered learning how to love again. He remembered his first missions in the GP Patrol Teams. He remembered the flush of pride when he was told of his posting after he graduated from the GP's Academy's Officer Course. He remembered the disbelief when he found out that a grand majority of his new command were girls – girls who had been raised from infancy to fight and kill, and who had never worn dresses or attended parties. He remembered the devotion of Reiko Kirihara and how she helped him settle into his new role. He remembered the embarrassed faces of Kei and Yuri, his Lovely Angels, as he looked at the widespread destruction they had caused in a Combat Frame (2) battle. He remembered the looks of fear on their faces when he had been severely injured in battle. He remembered his friends in the GP, who kept in constant contact with him. It made him realize that, before long, he wanted something more than justice or vengeance. He wanted to not fail the people he cared for a second time.

He smiled then, tears in his eyes, as he reached up and touched the face of Mikoto tenderly. It had taken six years. But it had been worth it. The scars on his soul were badges of honor, something he could show God to prove that his life had been worth something.

"You told me to live."

At that moment, everyone who stood nearby and heard the young man's confession could have sworn that the stone lips of the statues curved into a smile, and that a single, shining tear fell from its stone eyes onto the face of the man below.

"Thank you, Mi-chan, for everything. But above all and everything else, thank you for loving me."

**(O)**

_When Sheik and his Assault Division finally left Procyon III, it was two days earlier than they had planned. The reason for their hasty departure was because of the information that had come into their possession. One of the Shin Angyo Onshi investigating the abduction of Prince Eldon had discovered a tangible link between the event and a plot to force King Huang Fei from power. The Fei Royal Family had been in power for generations, and there were factions within the noble Houses of the Hydrae Systems who either wanted their reign to come to an end or who wanted the King deposed and Prince Eldon to take his place._

_And the rebel factions could very well succeed. Why? Three simple reasons, the first being that the rebel Legions outnumbered the armies of the loyalist Houses and the Fei Royal Legions almost fifty to one. The second is that the rebels are in control of key installations, military bases and jump-gates throughout the sector. Any attempt on the part of the King to crush the rebellion – if he was aware of it in the first place – would be doomed to failure. The rebels had seen to it that any officer of merit whose loyalty was to the Fei Royal Family was either bought, made to fall into disfavor, removed from his position or thrown into jail. You can tell, Historian, that this was not a plot made on the spur of the moment. It was one years in the making._

_The third reason was that King Huang Fei had not been as good a ruler as his ancestors. He had squandered the wealth and prestige of his ancestors. Though mighty in battle, King Huang Fei lacked the wisdom in which to rule. With Prince Eldon gone, the rebel factions whose views leaned towards moderation had no choice but to align themselves with the extremists. They had no choice. _

_You see, the domains of the Fei Royal Family – the three stars of the Hydrae Constellation – were fortress-worlds, founded by the Fei Dynasty's first King to protect the rest of the Shogunate from the predations of the Orks and the Zerg. King Huang Fei's ancestor, King Kahn Fei, had sworn before the Founder of the Shogunate that as long as his descendants and the descendants of his warriors manned the ramparts and strongholds of his demesne, no hostile alien would threaten the throne worlds of the Empire. For generations, that oath had been kept. King Kahn Fei studied our Order's society and the manner in which we waged our wars – and made it his own. It birthed a people who were disciplined, tough and resourceful. Even the clones who worked in the brothels knew how to strip and fire a lasgun and use a sword. If the Hydrae Constellation was lost, the only thing standing between alien marauders and the Shogunate Throne Worlds would be the hundred-odd military bases that would be incapable of holding back the tide._

_But there were other players waiting in the wings; and these had plans other, more sinister, plans…_

**(O)**

_**Galactic Police Battleship Star Throne, Metis System, 24**__**th**__** December 3570 A.D.**_

Sheik Muhammad studied the holo-graphic star-map before him prior to facing his subordinates, his blue eyes calm in the face of recent events. The girls of his Assault Division were not the only ones present. The men and women of GPAD 5723, led by Kirihara's rival, Kyla Harrison, were also in attendance. As a result, Sheik had no choice but to shift the mission briefing to the _Star Throne_'s larger planning room. Reiko had taken his decision with aplomb even as she privately fumed at their superior's lack of sense for putting her and Kyla in the same room.

Drawing in a deep breath, he called the room to order, "All right, ladies and gentlemen, settle down. We have a lot to do and little time in which to get it done. But first, I bid welcome to the men and women of the GPAD 5723, and I apologize for our superiors' collective stupidity for putting the two of us in the same room – and the same job."

Muffled laughter greeted his words, and Sheik could see grins on the faces of many, despite the darkness of the room.

"I know some of you want to deal with the Ctarl-Ctarl pirates giving one of the Antares Border Lords a headache, but I regret to inform you that you'll be deployed to deal with something far uglier than a buxom Ctarl-Ctarl pirate captain. This, ladies and gentlemen," Sheik raised his hand and indicated the Metis star-system, which immediately magnified to show the planets and its surrounding regions, "is the Metis System. You already know that. But the reason as to why you're here is because there are some heretics who are itchy for a long sentence in a cell."

"Cut the Holy Order talk, Captain," one of the GPAD 5723 officers, a powerfully built man name Givaldi, called out, "Give it to us straight. What are we here for?"

"A rescue mission, Lieutenant Givaldi," Sheik replied, and opened several smaller holo-screens, "Somewhere within this system is an Illuminate Base that High Command believes is the place where Prince Eldon Fei is being held. Our job is to get him out and get him back to his father as soon as possible. If we succeed, we might be able to put an end to a possible uprising. If we fail, there'll be hell to pay."

Sheik paused, turning his gaze back to the 3-dimensional holographic star-map, before continuing, "I hate to be the one telling you this, but I suppose now is better than later. Whether we fail or not in this mission may very well not matter. I think half of you know the reason why. For the other half who were in la-la land, let me update you. As of this morning, 0845 hours, twelve of the twenty noble Houses of the Shogunate-controlled Hydrae Constellation have announced publicly their intent to remove King Huang Fei from power. There have been twelve major battles across the sector, and it could not have come at a worse time. Reports from the Shin Angyo Onshi indicate that there is a major Ork incursion on its way. They will hit the outer Shogunate star-bases in a matter of months.

"The Shogunate Emperor is aware of this. He is sending in his Legions to help his vassal suppress the revolt. But that's only on the surface. My contacts in the Shin Angyo Onshi tell me that the Emperor is considering removing King Huang Fei from power himself. But, whether that fat bastard remains on the throne is none of my concern. My main concerns are the right-wing Houses in the Hydrae systems and the terrorist groups that Intelligence believes they are supporting.

"That leads me to my next set of objectives. I want prisoners taken for the purpose of interrogation and I want the base's quantum mainframe secured without a scratch on it. Are we clear?"

A wave of affirmation greeted Sheik's instructions. The door to the planning room suddenly hissed open, causing heads to turn, as a man strode in quickly and whispered several words in the young GP commander's ear. Whatever it was that was spoken soon had the young GP commander leaving the room with Reiko and Kyla, causing everyone to exchange looks of confusion. The Bio-soldiers, however, exchanged grim looks. They had heard what the man had said, and they knew that the stakes had gone higher.

"Alpha…?" Haruka looked at the de facto field commander of the Assault Division. The blonde bio-soldier turned to face her fellow bio-soldiers. She nodded, and as one, the young women of the GPAD 5221 left the room. The time for talk and planning had come to an end.

It was finally time to act.

**(O)**

Sheik read the report before handing it to Reiko and Kyla, whose expressions turned from brief confusion to utter shock the moment they read past the fourth paragraph. Kyla, who had recently joined them, had asked several questions before her sharp mind finally put all the pieces together. As the picture took shape in the older, brown-haired, woman's eyes, a look of horror appeared on her face.

The abduction of Prince Eldon Fei; the undiplomatic reaction of King Huang Fei; the idiosyncratic movements of the terrorist groups; the security leaks in the Velan government; the gatherings Prince Julian and his siblings have attended; the noble Houses of the Hydrae constellation that have rebelled….all of it started to make sense. The terrorists had already won half the battle; the rebellion had helped foment had given them the cover they needed to kill every alien and half-breed they could get their hands on in the Hydrae Constellations.

"This is…monstrous," Kyla finally spoke as she lowered the report onto the table. The three GP officers turned to the two members of the Shin Angyo Onshi who had docked on the _Star Throne_ only an hour ago. The two men looked battered and exhausted, and their clone companions had been badly injured in their escape. The latter were undergoing medical treatment in the GP battleship's medical bay, as was their captive, a high-ranking member of the Cross of Purity terrorist group.

"Where are you bringing him?" Sheik finally asked the Shin Angyo Onshi agents regarding their prisoner.

"Our original intention was to bring him before the Emperor, so His Majesty's interrogators can get answers out of him. But with our ship damaged, my companions injured and time running out, that was no longer an option. We were fortunate that my ship's sensors had detected you before our prisoner's compatriots managed to catch up with us…" the taller agent spoke, running a hand through his red hair.

Sheik's smile caused the agent to flinch, and Reiko to swallow. She knew that smile.

"I take it that they're still chasing you…?"

"Yes."

"Good. That means I will find out where the rats in this system are hiding all the quicker."

**(O)**

_**Illuminate Army secret base, Metis system, 17 hours later**_

The white-garbed and armored soldiers of the Illuminate Army terrorist faction stared in utter horror at the seven figures that stood before them, unable to believe their eyes, instants before all hell broke loose. It had been the oldest trick in the book, and they fell for it. Standing before them were eight members of the Galactic Police's finest hunters, the Bio-soldiers, armored and armed to the teeth. Scattered around the hangar bay, floating in the zero-gravity, were the bodies of over thirty of their fellows. Some had been cut to pieces, most shot, and some had been on the receiving end of Techniques that the Bio-soldiers' leader had unleashed.

Guns were trained on a young man who pulled his blazing plasma sword out of the body of the last surviving neophytes (3) of the first group. The intricate markings on his face, marking him as a Betelgeusian Firstborn, blazed blue and silver, visible for all to see. One of the Illuminate Army's most respected veterans froze as he saw the markings. Once, a long time ago, he had seen a woman – a sinful woman whom he had bedded many times and whose ethereal beauty haunted his dreams – with the same markings. And the sword…it was so familiar. It was an old but well-maintained Mark-VIII plasma sword that one could buy from any arms dealer, but the ornate runic markings on the blade bespoke of Betelgeusian witchcraft that would allow it to strike truer, faster and with horrific power. The veteran studied the young man's face. Indeed, the young man's eyes were a light green shade, and the shape of his face was similar to that of a man he once called friend. A man who had died when the Shogunate used a Geo-Sword on the planet so many had died trying to defend.

"Templar Viktor…? What should we do?"

The old warrior did not reply. He remembered the reasons why he had joined the Illuminate Army. He did not care about their anti-alien and human supremacist bullshit; he wanted revenge on the Shogunate. But, standing here and now, facing a man who could very well be the son of his friend and the Silver Siren, he hesitated. The boy was here to stop him, and the look in his eyes told Viktor that the only thing that would stop him was the personal attention of Death himself. Viktor's lips pulled into a grin. That grim determination was his father's and the passion that drove that determination was his mother's. He shook his head, _'Jeanne, you and Flik brought one hell of a kid into this world…'_

It was ironic, and Viktor could not help but feel jealous of his long-dead friend. The Silver Siren could have had any man she wanted, and many among them would have given the lovely rune-mistress temporal power and dominion over entire planets or colony clusters. But, she had chosen a low-born, ex-Knight of Antares who did not even have a family name or a family to call his own. He only had his convictions, tempered in the crucible of a cruel war, and his dream of creating a world where children could live in hope.

"Commander….!" Viktor's subordinate raised his voice.

"I heard you the first time, idiot. Get our people out of here. If my guess is right, their buddies are on the way, and they're bringing in the big guns. They're not here to take us prisoner; they're here to wipe us out."

"What about the Prince, Templar?"

"Get him out of here as well. That spoilt brat can suck vacuum for all I care. I am more interested in that kid," Viktor jerked his head in the direction of the young man who had materialized amidst his enemies, his plasma sword cutting through their flak jackets with effortless ease, "My past, it seems, has finally caught up with me."

The old warrior readied his massive, high-frequency sword and descended to the lower deck. As if sensing his intent to challenge him, the boy turned to face him, his eyes meeting Viktor's. The boy nodded, and waited till Viktor's feet touched the ground and he was standing ten feet away from him.

"Well met, boy. What is your name?" Viktor asked.

"I believe that before asking the name of another, that you should give yours first."

Viktor chuckled, "My name is Viktor Kaiser."

"And I am Sheik Muhammad."

"He named your after that sheep-herder of a Prophet, eh? No matter. Like him, you'll be dead soon enough," Viktor said.

"We all die, old man," Sheik replied, "It's just a matter of when, and for what reason."

Now, Viktor laughed aloud. The same words, spoken over two decades ago, were the last words Viktor had heard from his friend's lips. Tears spilt from his eyes, shocking his adversary briefly. Finally – finally, after so long! – he could put his ghosts to rest. No more nightmares. No more of the lies he had forced himself to live for. It was time to pay the ferryman for his long-overdue ride over the River Styx.

"Well spoken. Let's find out, shall we?"

"Bring it on, old man."

**(O)**

_The battle on that base was a bloody one. The Wandering Angel barely emerged from it alive, but the Prince had emerged from it a corpse. One of the terrorists, in a final act of spite, had injected a bio-agent into his body that caused his bones and organs to liquefy; it is a slow, painful, horrific death. Nothing could counteract it. Sheik almost died trying to save him. Why did he put in such effort? Wouldn't you, if he had been someone whose very existence made your past something of reality? You see, they had been friends once. Good ones. Both had met and studied at the same school the Cross of Purity terrorists had bombed. Prince Eldon's vision to reform his future dominion to the ones he had promised his people had been inspired by the conversations he had had with his friend in better days. It would not, however, change the fact that the Hydrae Constellation will – and will always remain – fortress-worlds._

_With the Hydrae System in chaos and the possibility of hostile aliens and terrorist groups taking advantage of it, Prince Eldon had no choice. With his last breath, he asked his friend to bear the heaviest burdens – that of the lives of billions he had could no longer protect and to help restore order to the entire Hydrae Constellation – and bequeathed to him his royal sword. There was no way in Seven Heavens – and Nine Hells – that the Wandering Angel could say no._

_Suffice to say, it wasn't long before the Shogunate and the Wandering Angel's superiors in GP Headquarters heard the news. Neither side had been happy. The Galactic Police's reputation had taken a severe blow, and the Shogunate had lost one of its most promising sons – one whose return would have been able to end a sector-wide insurrection. Sheik's superiors immediately ordered him to return to the primary Galactic Police Headquarters in the Tucanae constellation to explain how his mission had turned into a fiasco. _

_This he did, but before his superiors could render their judgment, Sheik had left for the Hydrae systems on the _Arcadia_ with a skeleton crew consisting of his classmates from his Academy days to fulfill Prince Eldon's dying wish. But, more than that, he left because he knew the decision his superiors had made. There were many who wanted to absolve the Wandering Angel of blame, but there were many more who wanted to save face. A Prince was dead. The operation, despite what was reported, was a failure. And someone had to take the blame. Those who had sent Sheik on his mission to find the missing Prince could only grit their teeth in fury. Not only had their political adversaries have the upper hand, they had also left them with no choice save to end the career of one of its most promising officers._

_One of those said officers, knowing better than to let such talent go to waste, spoke to one of his friends within our Order. The latter, a high-ranking Inquisitor, made arrangements to bring Sheik into our order – but only after he proved himself. And during the long, bitter, one-year war, Sheik did so. And he did not do it alone. Commander Kirihara and his former subordinates in the GPAD 5221 fought by his side to restore order to that embattled region of space. Former classmates, some of whom commanded their own Assault Divisions, committed themselves to the fray. The sight of the Galactic Police's elite within the embattled Hydrae systems did more than restore their credibility in the eyes of its people; it restored their image as a law-enforcing agency that cared. _

_After the fall of Fortress Edogami, the heavily-defended fortress and headquarters of the insurrection's leaders and their terrorist allies, the Wandering Angel took his Assault Division and disappeared. All that he left behind in the ruins of the fortress was the Prince's Royal Sword, which the Shin Angyo Onshi gave to the new rulers of the Hydrae System. There was an inscription on that blade – written in Latin –which they swore themselves to: _

_Fides et Justitia: Faith and Justice._

**(O)**

_I find it amazing. Whatever records that had survived the passing of ten centuries regarding the Wandering Angel had been few and far between. But the story my jailor – if he could be called such – had narrated coincides with what was recorded. Those records, however, did not speak of his past. They made no mention of Mikoto Hayase, the girl he had loved, nor the children that had died with her. They made no mention of his parents, who were heroes of the First and Second Crimson Wars (his mother, I found, was vilified as an infidel and a whore and his father as a weak-willed soul who gave in to temptation). _

_Though they spoke glowingly of his devotion to duty and the ruthless persecution of the enemies of humanity, I cannot help but feel that there were those who had been jealous of him. Maybe that was what had led to the High Lords sending him and his retinue on their doomed mission to the Algol Solar System. That event was one that had left every sentient being in the galaxy at a loss for words. Three **entire** planets had simply disappeared. It was not due to a black hole or some other celestial phenomena. Those planets had simply disappeared. One minute, they were there…and the next, after a blazing flash of light that could **not** have been a supernova, they weren't._

_The Fiery Sword's survivors had managed to acquire a copy of the last transmission Sheik had sent to Lord Raiha, and my blood turns cold every time I hear his final words – and see the haunted expression on his face._

"**The Algol System's oldest legends were true after all. And that means ours are as well. Once, every thousand years, the seal that God placed on His Enemy weakens enough for the latter to try to escape its prison completely. In its initial stages, the Enemy will be weak, and it is only during that period of time that we mere mortals have a chance to cast it back into its prison. My girls and the friends I have made during the time I have spent in the Algol System are resolved to this course of action.**

"**As such…I am sending the Arcadia to you. I do not need such a large ship to ferry me to Hell. Take good care of her. And tell my father-in-law that I'm sorry…and thank you. **

"**Raiha…the legends of your Clan might be the only thing that can defeat…"**

_The communiqué ended there. But I cannot help but feel that everything that has taken place a thousand years ago is but the beginning. But now the players have been assembled. The actors are in place. It is time for this infinite war to end._

_Kouryou Saber_

_Historian of the Legion of Death_

_September 27, C.E. 76_

* * *

_**Author's foreword:**_

I included references to Suikoiden 2, and a tribute to Ninja Gaiden's fanfic on Greyarchive (dot) org, 'Irresistible' in this particular story. I could not resist my…more 'playful' side and the chance to poke fun at a straight-laced friend of mine. I might end up dead, though – or end up with a few lumps, if I'm lucky.

Before I go, I will reiterate what I had written in the Disclaimer section. Some of these characters that I write about are _**already**_ dead, but their lives affect the ones that will make their appearance in GSD – Lion of Heaven.

A parody of the 'Devil May Cry' title.

Combat Frames, or CF, are also known as Bots. These are divided into light, medium and heavy Bots. The Loyalist Bots piloted by the Lovely Angels are heavy-class CFs. Feel free to use this term, but attribute its creation to me.

Neophyte – a soldier of the Illuminate Army. Rank level is from private to sergeant, though sergeants are known as Initiates.

A cohort, if I am correct, is essentially a battalion-sized unit of 200 to 300 troops, including officers and support staff. I apologize for any discrepancies, as I'm basing it off books I've read and my homeland's military structure.

The following characters are from the H-Game, Pretty Soldier Wars 3042 A.D. by the gaming company, D.O. Each of the characters are addressed by their call-signs.

Watcher – Alpha

Raptor – Misa

Heavy Arms – Miyuki

Fairy – Ayumi

Sword – Saeko

Archer – Mikako

Arbalest – Marie

Halberd – Haruka

Empress – Commander Reiko Kirihara

These girls come from Troubleshooter, by Sega.

Lance –Madison

Spear – Crystal

And these come from the Dirty Pair Anime (though I am hard pressed whether to describe them from the original Anime series or the new Dirty Pair Flash).

Yuri

Kei.

_**Character Portfolio 1: Lost Memories – Side Fiery Sword**_

_**1) Sheik Muhammad, the Wandering Angel**_

_**Affiliation:**_ Galactic Police/ Fiery Sword Legion, Holy Order Lordaeron

_**Birthday: **_28/10/3549 A.D.

_**Age:**_ 21 (in GP service)/ 23 – 27 (Holy Order)

_**Rank:**_ Captain (GP) / High Templar (Holy Order)

_**Eye color/hair color/Height:**_ Light green/Dark brown/180 cm

_**Suit piloted:**_ Orbital Frame Mikoto

_**Favored weapon: **_Fusion gun and Plasma Sword (Odessa Cross)

_**Type:**_ Natural - Betelgeusian

_**History:**_ Sheik is the only son of Flik and Jeanne, two heroes of the Second Crimson War – an event that saw to an entire star system seceding from the Shogunate, the second such secession in less than five years. He was raised by the friends of his parents in Lordaeron. After 12 years of compulsory education and training in the Holy Order's Academies, Sheik's foster-parents sent him to the Procyon System to help him expand his horizons. It was there he met and fell in love with Mikoto Hayase, the eldest daughter of Makoto and Diva Hayase; her life would pave the road in which Sheik would walk for the rest of his life. The child he had with her died during a brutal terrorist attack that spurred his decision to join the Galactic Police. After his Officer Cadet course, he was posted as commander of a Bio-Soldier Assault Division (i.e.: GPAD 5221).

When Sheik left the Galactic Police, he did not only take the battleship _Arcadia_ with him. He took the Assault Division he had led with him; more appropriately, they followed him when he left to fight in the insurgency that had erupted in the Hydrae Constellation following the abduction of his former schoolmate, Prince Eldon Fei. At the end of the war, he returned to Lordaeron and became part of the Fiery Sword Legion six years before Nanaya Raiha became Legion Master. During that time, he earned the sobriquet of Wandering Angel; he and his team would be in hot zones long before the main Holy Order forces got involved. His modus operanti mirrored those of the terrorists he hated so much: he struck hard, swiftly and silently, before they could react. Despite his reputation for taking matters into his own hands, the Wandering Angel was considered by many in the Holy Order to be one of their best rangers.

Sheik has several half-siblings who serve in the Fiery Sword Legion. Most notable amongst them is Arikiba Nanaya, one of the twins borne by the chief bodyguard of the Apostle Nation (which came to be at the end of the Second Crimson War) who had never relinquished her heart or body to anyone else.


	4. Knight in Crimson

_**Heaven's Lion: Lost Memories – Side Fiery Sword**_

_**Original Idea by Kouryuo Saber**_

_**Written by Spiritblade**_

_**Disclaimer: **_On the first page. Let's get on with this. Segments in _italics_ denote the narrator speaking. I was not surprised to find no reviews on my first and second chapters, but that is understandable. These characters have no impact and do not belong in the Gundam SeeD and GSD universe – but they will in the story of Kouryuo Saber's – and my – making.

**(O)**

**Chapter 2: The Unbroken Vow – Part 1: Childhood of Ashes **

_It has been two weeks since I was taken captive and brought to the _Imperial Fury_, the Emperor-class battleship that serves as the flagship of the Fiery Sword's armada. Two weeks since I bore witness to the merciless assault that had routed the warriors of the Reyguard Empire from their trenches, and slaughtered men and women I was proud to call brother and sister. They had spared me only because I was unarmed… and because I was known to them – or at least, known to one of them._

_That person's name is Iyanna Tyrisfal, a wingly Farseer and a captain within the Sardaukar, the elite warrior cadre that serves the Fiery Sword Legion Master as his shock-troopers and bodyguard. Iyanna, I soon learn, stands within the Legion Master's inner circle and has served the latter ever since his ascension a thousand years ago. She had been sent by the Prophetess-Queen Ellesime, ruler of Suldanesselar and the spiritual leader of the wingly race, to serve, guide and protect the young Legion Master. Iyanna did not come to the court of Nanaya Raiha alone; she had brought with her warriors and warlocks personally chosen by the Prophetess-Queen, each of whom is a veteran of over a hundred battles. Each of the latter bears proudly on his or her person the flaming sword symbol superimposed over a sunburst. _

_I admit that I was stirred by this alien woman's beauty. Her long, thick mane of soft crimson hair was a sharp contrast to her pale skin, and her body was lithe, graceful and strong. The first time I saw her was one burnt into my retinas; I see Iyanna every time I close my eyes. I see her clad in that ornate armor of silver and gold, clutching a crackling spear, her voice shrill in the thunder of battle, wings spread gloriously as if to embrace to sky. It was like seeing the Archangel Gabriel herself as she brought the Word to the Prophet Muhammad over six thousand years ago. But more, I was stirred by the depth of her knowledge of things that were…and of things to be. _

_It was with this knowledge that I asked her how this War would end, and if Lord Metatron and Reyguard would emerge victorious from the conflagration. The expression of agony on Iyanna's face told me that I had made the worst faux pas possible and that any conversations between us would be postponed for some time. Indeed, she turned and left – but not before telling me that her gift of foresight was one she may well have been better off without. Because of it, she was denied a normal life. Because of it, she had to stride a hundred battlefields, guiding the warriors of her race to victory. Because of it, she was bound by laws that forbade her from doing anything that would change the destinies of those whose fates were already written in the stars._

_She assured me of one thing: I would live to see the end of the war. _

_It would be three days later that she finally sent for me. She brings me, after lunch, to one of the training halls aboard the _Imperial Fury_, where I came face-to-face with men and women who wore uniforms of the Earth Sphere's militia. The creation of these irregulars was a desperate attempt on the part of the Earth Sphere's leadership to give their armies, mauled in the aftermath of the Second Bloody Valentine War, time to reorganize. Imperial and Order commanders alike viewed the militia with contempt, likening them to vermin deserving only extermination. Though equipped and given training similar to that of regular troops, the militia nevertheless lacked the discipline and cohesion of their professional counterparts. Because of this, they suffered horribly in the eight months since Lord Metatron and Emperor Bernhardt ordered the invasion of Terra. But, that was about to change. _

_Iyanna had seen fit to furnish me with reports from the battle-fronts from Terra itself, many of which were meant for high-ranking commanders (and in one such instance, for Lord Michael himself!). At least 4 in 10 reports described the militia as a growing problem to both Imperial and Order armies. Their penchant for launching lightning raids and their skill in urban conflicts has bloodied the noses of many an Imperial battalion. No doubt many of those high-born Reyguard brats who once viewed the militias with such scorn are now taking these 'peasant-soldiers' more seriously. The deaths of several of their peers had been a wakeup call that was long overdue. _

_The militia regiments been trained and equipped by the Fiery Sword Legion, however, are several shades more dangerous than their peers. Their discipline and commitment is awesome. Should they cross swords with the warriors of the Knightly Orders, there is a chance that these militia-turned-stormtroopers may well carry the day. The weapons they are familiarizing themselves with are the instruments in which they will smite those who have wronged them and to declare that Terra does not – and will never – belong to its conquerors._

_I hear them speak of their countries and their people, these men and women who were once enemies because of ideology and race. I hear the songs they sing and the stories they tell. I watch them pay respect to those who have crossed the river before them. I listen to their hopes and dreams. I bear witness as they fight against their hate and anger, trying not to lose their humanity in an inhuman war. I light a candle for these brave souls, my enemies, one and all, noble and fallen, man and woman, and I pray for them. Because I am looking upon the faces of heroes; though they wear not the colors of Lordaeron or Reyguard, they wear the colors all warriors wear and fight the battles all warriors fight. _

_Iyanna raised a hand and pointed to one warrior among them, and my eyes widen. There, surrounded by rough-looking men and women, was a well-built man with golden hair, green eyes and a smile one never sees on a pirate (outside of romance novels and manga), sparring with his peers. I recognize him instantly: Lucian Winterguild, captain of the Phantom pirates and a man who, more than any other, Lord Michael longs to see dead. I can still remember the look of utter fury on the latter's face when he saw that his enemy a thousand years dead was still alive. I turned to look at Iyanna, a thousand questions on the tip of my tongue, but she places an armored finger on my lips._

'_Tonight,' she tells me, 'I will tell you the story of Lucian Winterguild and how he and your Lord Michael became enemies. Tonight is a night that shatters another lie you have been told. Are you ready?'_

_I am. _

Diary of Kouryuo Saber

Historian of the Legion of Death

October 17th, Cosmic Era 76

**(O)**

_The first time I met Lucian Winterguild was over a thousand years ago, when I was sent to the Holy Order's throne-world of Lordaeron in the Eridani star-cluster as an emissary of Her Majesty Ellesime. My mission then had been to request its ruling High Lords and Sacred Beasts for a force of warriors – no more than a hundred – to aid our Kingdom to crush an insurrection led by one whose name is a curse amongst my people for the vile betrayal he had committed. That story is one I will save for last for last, for it has no bearing on the one I am about to tell. By then, you may already know that which many people – even those of my race – do not. Sylvia Thompson had left out in her book – on purpose and by the request of Her Majesty – the names of the heroes who saved us, the names and locations of the places that are sacred to my people, and events that could be used by Her Majesty's political enemies to tarnish her name and that of the House of Aseria. In their place, she used lies to tell a truth; to weave a story that, even now, is loved by all._

_And here is where our story begins, Master Kouryuo. Understand this: truth and lies are but tools in the hands of those who know how to use them. Repeat a thing often enough, and many people will start to see it as true. Tell a lie that is half a truth and even the shrewdest will be unable to tell the difference. Thus, tell me this: What do you know of Lucian Winterguild?_

…_Interesting._

_I expected as much. There are few people in Creation that Michael fears, and it is ironic that numbered among them is a man who is a nuisance at worst. While it is true that Lucian is a pirate, he is unlike other pirates. Most pirates are in love with wealth, women and fame. They will pursue that goal with everything that they have. Lucian is a man in love with freedom; the pirate flag he flies on his ship, the _Einherjar_, is a declaration to all of that freedom. He goes where he pleases, bringing all who would accept his ethos onto his ship. And once, a long, long time ago, he made a promise to two girls, under the light of the stars, to take them to the places they could only dream of._

_Is this a story like the Wandering Angel's, you ask? In a way, yes, for these two were both men in love. Now that I think about it…so are many of those in the stories I will tell you in the days to come._

**(O)**

_**17**__**th**__** March 3567 A.D., Horologii Beta star-cluster, Midgard, Esthar City, 0500 hrs**_

It has always been Lucian's habit to wake up earlier than his parents, to leave the small, cramped apartment that served as home to three people, and to go to the highest point in Esthar City to watch as the stars surrendered their dominion of the skies to the dawn. Here, under the memorial erected on Astarte's Throne by the late President of Esthar City Laguna Loire over two hundred years ago after the end of the Ultimecia Affair, Lucian could see the entirety of the city he lived in. Stretching to the horizon, the bright lights of a prosperous metropolis was a contrast to the slums the boy had left behind. It was akin to seeing all the stars of heaven on earth, a mesmerizing sight that never failed to steal his breath away.

The dull rumble of engines caused Lucian to turn his head upwards to see the massive form of starships fly overhead, their passage causing the trees about the memorial to whip about violently in the aftermath of its passage. The boy's eyes widened in awe at the sight; the ships were the Munificent-class frigates _Eclipse, Lancelot _and _Amaterasu_, all of whom were part of Midgard's famed 32nd Orbital Defense Squadron. One day, his parents had promised, if he did well in school, he would be able to serve (or even captain!) one of those ships.

And when that day came, the boy swore, he would take his parents and friends and leave Midgard, leave behind the poverty and hardship that had come with their station. He had lost count of the number of times he felt envy sink her fangs deep into his heart as he watched his schoolmates enjoy the things he would never be able to afford. He remembered with the looks on his parents' faces as he asked them for things they would never be able to give him. All they could do was give him a good education and pray, God willing, that Fate would be kinder to their son than it had been to them.

But, despite everything the priest who ran the ramshackle church had said, Lucian found it hard to believe in God. Because, everyday…he would cycle past those whom God had abandoned. The young boy looked down at his bicycle, which his father had found discarded near a refuse collection point and repaired to the best of his ability, and his school uniform. There laid the reality he cannot escape. Lucian sighed quietly, and shook his head. There was no point being depressed. Besides…today was the beginning of a new week! And with the school fair coming, the boy knew that his skills would be very much in demand. He already had received requests from his school's seniors to help them with their stalls, in exchange for a cut of the profits.

And if he made enough money, then maybe he could bring his parents out for a good meal instead of the other way round!

**(O)**

_**Sanctuary Middle School, 0700 hrs**_

Sanctuary Middle School was located in one of the residential neighborhoods of Esthar City. It was a good neighborhood, Lucian thought, as he bit into one of the buns given to him by the lunch ladies in thanks for his assistance earlier. The chances of anyone getting robbed or attacked here were low as compared to the slums. There, Lucian knew, there was hardly a night when the gangs did not fight, or someone was not robbed of his or her day's takings – or worse. The police officers assigned to patrol the slums were themselves no better than the gangs; almost every one of them was on the take. Even the district chief was in the pocket of the triads, all of whom paid the man considerable sums to look the other way.

The fact that the man and his subordinates had yet to be put away was an indication that the triads had in their pockets several key, high-level government officials. Not that the latter, and the common citizenry, would care about the peasants that formed the bulk of the Antarian Kingdom's workforce. So what if a few dozen of them died? There would be more where they came from – many, many more. Lucian had witnessed two peasant revolts in the last six years; both had been brutally suppressed. The last one had been six months ago, and that insurrection had left over two thousand dead, twice that many injured, and over a billion credits worth of damages to businesses and homes in the more developed districts. The current president of the Esthar province, Arshad Loire, the grandson of Laguna Loire and husband to the Princess Moira Kerensky, had not taken kindly to the insurrection and had increased the taxes of the peasant class in order to pay for the damages that their insurrection had caused.

Lucian looked at the airship that flew overhead, the massive banners it flew proclaiming the approaching birthday of the man who was the descendant of a revered hero. Its loudspeakers sang praises of a man who had fought and won many battles (battles, Lucian knew, that were won by the blood and effort of his soldiers, while he sat and commanded from the safety of his command carrier), his courage (which was nonexistent), and of his wisdom and generosity (which took the form of his Darwinist beliefs and 'tax breaks' which involved taking more from the poor to give the rich momentary respite).

No, Arshad Loire was no hero. The heroes Lucian loved and revered were all long-dead, buried in graves far from their homelands, and whose names and deeds were on the verge of being forgotten. The once-beautiful memorial on Astarte's Throne was a testament to that tragic truth. The boy let the empty plastic wrapper that had once held his breakfast be seized by the wind, the sight of it fluttering brokenly into the skies the image of an angel struggling to remain aloft.

An angel…

He remembered the words of the fortune teller he had visited some weeks back during a fair held at a Shinto shrine within the city itself. The weary expression of a woman who was tired of answering the same questions faded when he sat before her. She seized his small, callused hands with a speed that belied her age, gazing at the lines and tracing them with her slender fingers. Her expression became one full of sorrow, even as she tried to mask it with a smile: _**'It is ironic, yet fitting, that he who proclaims himself the most faithless of men is, in truth, the most faithful of them all. That he who believed that the heroes he once loved and revered as a child are all dead will one day, as a man, stand amongst them. **_

'_**When the coldest, cruelest winter besets Midgard, you will be forced to make a decision, one that will damn those you cherish to a lifetime of torment and degradation, or to one of glory and honor. Understand this: both decisions are not without consequence. The first will see to them still in possession of their hearts and souls but, like their bodies, they will be scarred and battered by the cruelties of no few men and women who see beauty as something to defile or rip away. Their lives will blaze brightly, one last time, as you deliver them from their suffering.**_

'_**The second will see them delivered into the hands of one who has in his hands the power to deliver them to safety. He will mold them into Angels of War, shining stars in the firmament of battle whose swords and wrath spell doom for the enemies of humanity. They will give hope and courage to thousands. They will visit judgment upon the wicked and mercy upon the helpless, and deliver despair to the death it so rightly deserves. Should you decide on this path, then the toll shall be paid by you, young Lucian.'**_

Was there, Lucian had asked the fortune-teller, a price to be paid for their saving? The latter had nodded, and asked if the former wanted to know what would be asked of him. Lucian had shaken his head; if it meant the ones he cared about would be delivered to a place kinder than the hell they lived in, he would pay it. God could, for all Lucian cared, send him the receipt upon his arrival in Hades. The fortune-teller had laughed merrily, before sending him on his way, but not before giving Lucian her blessings. The only thing that plagued Lucian's mind at night was **who** was it that would need saving; the fortune-teller had neglected to tell him that. Or left it out on purpose…

"Lucian…?" a voice called out, breaking Lucian out of his thoughts. The boy turned about to see two girls walking towards him. He recognized them instantly; they were the twin daughters of a family who lived in a run-down building several blocks from where he lived and who Lucian had spent many happy hours playing with. Their names were Platina and Aria Armash. The former had silver hair and blue eyes while the latter had dark hair and crimson eyes. Both promised to be stunningly beautiful when they grew to adulthood, a tribute, no doubt, to the Betelgeusian blood that ran thick in their veins.

Blood, Lucian knew, that neither of their parents possessed.

"What took the both of you so long?"

**(O)**

_Before I continue, it would be prudent of me to inform you that, in this story, Antares's war with the Republic of Betelgeuse had ended only two years prior, in 3553 A.D. Incited by the Purist factions within the Church of Lordaeron who wanted to turn the inhabitants of Betelgeuse from their 'heathen' gods, and executed by a Royal Family that was incapable of bringing its more ambitious scions and servants to heel, the two year occupation of Betelgeuse left thousands of its inhabitants – and Antarian soldiers – dead__.__ Many Betelgeusians, mostly women, ended up in the slave markets of Antares – or in the chambers of the occupational forces' officers. Many of these were repatriated back to Betelgeuse after the war, but there were those who were hidden by lustful generals and Planetary Lord reluctant to free them… or who chose to remain with their lovers._

_I'm sorry, you had a question? How did the war end…? You know the answer to that, Master Kouryuo – and it's not exactly something I can lie about. The Kingdom of Antares lost the war. But before they were driven from the system, the Purists and elements of the Antarian army attempted to destroy the planet with a Geo-Sword. If they cannot bring the planet under their rule, they will blast it clean of life._

_Yes, Master Kouryuo – the Purists attempted to destroy Betelgeuse. For the first time since your race's Great Expansion and the Armageddon Compact, a human hegemony had targeted another with a planet-killer for no other reason than because its faith was abhorrent in its eyes. That portion of history was excised from the history books of this region, in order to preserve the integrity of the Purists. Why would they do it? _

_The reasons are the same as when they reduced the Sword and Shield Legions to traitors beyond redemption whose power-lust motivated them to turn on their kin. They did it because they could – and because it served their purpose. But there is one more reason: of all the factions in Lordaeron, which is the most powerful? Yes; it is the Purist faction. Supported by more than half the Divine Beasts, all six Horsemen and five of the seven Eyes, the Purist faction's power in second to none._

**(O)**

"Rush hour," Aria said stonily, "And very rude people…"

"That explains the black eye," Lucian shook his head, and looked at Platina, "Was it…?"

Platina nodded. Lucian sighed; Aria was hard to anger, but when moved to ire, was more than capable of kicking down anyone twice her size. The dark-haired (and older) twin of Platina was a mascot to the all-female gang called the Wildcats. One of the more well-armed gangs in the slums, the Wildcats allegedly had links with a mercenary group that was in the employ of President Arshad. And Lucian, having seen the weapons in their hands, believed it.

"I have," Lucian finally spoke, "to talk to Rashid before he gets himself killed."

"Please do," Platina replied, "If he keeps at it, he won't be a boy anymore. And Aria had warned him that she won't give him half the mercy she gives you."

Lucian turned and looked at Aria, seeing the eerie smirk that would have made a demon freeze in its tracks. What exactly did…? No, wait, did Aria…? His eyes widened when he realized **what** exactly his dark-haired friend had done. The smirk became evil. Lucian developed a sweat-drop; she did. Rashid was going to be singing soprano for the next few days, and would tremble in fear every time he so much as saw Aria's shadow or heard her name. Never mind the stern talking-to; a bottle of ointment and words of sympathy would be more appropriate.

"Your sister does not do the 'mercy' thing, Platina," Lucian turned his attention back to Platina, "That is why the Wildcats like her – and why half the boys aged 12 to 24 stay far, far away from her. There is more mercy in an Isiri Archon than in your sister."

Before Aria could reply, the school bell rang, signaling the start of lessons. Lucian tossed Platina the bag holding the last three buns, "I got those from the lunch lady. I'll see both of you at break-time at the regular place."

**(O)**

The regular place that Lucian told Aria and Platina of was the Home Economics Room, where Sanctuary High's students learnt basic culinary skills to ensure that they were capable of cooking up a simple meal without burning the house down. Lucian was proud of his hard-earned skills, but his classmates – and his homeroom teacher – had never let him forget just how many times he had almost burnt the school down. Even now, the matronly woman hovered behind Lucian, watching as the latter went about cooking up his latest dish. How long had it been since she had tasted a dish from her home-world?

Ten years, if memory serves. The sharp tang of her student's cooking brought the teacher back to reality, and her mouth started to water. A glance at either side of her told the teacher that his classmates were severely distracted as well, and she could hear the sharp growl from more than one stomach. As always, Lucian had made enough for the entire class. She could not contain the childish smile that curved her lips when her young student switched off the stove, and poured the sauce onto it, turning an already delicious aroma to mouth-watering. The next words from her student's lips saw to 24 stoves being switched off simultaneously and its occupants lining up, plates in hand, with happy expressions on their faces: "All done, guys. Come and get it!"

Lunch would come early today, as it would on this particular day of every week.

**(O)**

Platina breathed in the scent of the _Pasta_ _le Eridani_ that her childhood friend had cooked earlier for his class, a delighted smile on her young face. Even her older twin had a rare smile on her face as she beheld the hot plate of food before her; food, they both knew, that would never grace the tables of many of the slum's inhabitants. Lucian had gone out to get drinks for all of them, leaving the two girls alone in the Home Economics Room. It allowed the Aria and Platina a measure of privacy and warmth that was lacking in their respective homes.

"It's so quiet, isn't it, Aria…?" Platina asked.

The dark-haired girl nodded, "It is. If I could, I would stay here and never go home."

"Should we ask Lucian if we could stay at his?"

"Will his parents…?"

"I doubt it, Aria," Platina replied, "Aunt Malys and Uncle Terry have never said no to us before."

"That may very well change, Platina. Don't expect things to remain the same."

"I know, Aria. I don't want to rely on Lucian forever…" Platina's face was somber, "One day, he will leave us behind to chase after his dream. And I want him to leave knowing that we will be able to stand on our own two feet."

"You can always follow him, you know," Aria said, "I won't stop you…and it would give me some reassurance that you are out there, seeing the thing we could only dream about. And I know Lucian well enough that you would be safe in his hands. That idiot is so straight up and down that I wonder how it is he managed to survive all this time in a place as unforgiving as the slums…"

Platina chuckled, "The answer is sitting right in front of you, sis. How many people, do you think, will say no when they take a whiff of this?"

"Not many, I'll give you that," Aria replied with a brief smile, "But I was being serious, Platina. Lucian has too kind a soul; it will burn him one day. The galaxy we live in is a vast jungle where predators prey on those weaker than themselves. It is a dark, cruel place. Every time I sing," and the girl touched the sigils on her face, which lit up at her unspoken command, "I am reminded of this. I hear the hymns of warriors before they go into battle. I hear the sobs of betrayed lovers. I hear the honey-coated lies of kings whose thirst for power is insatiable. I see weapons, wet with the blood of innocents, raised high in tribute to a God whose façade of mercy and compassion is a lie. I see heroes and heroines worthy of the name left to die alone, bleeding and broken on a thousand battlefields across as many worlds."

Platina did not speak for a full minute, "Aria…"

"I'm not like you, sister, "the dark-haired girl continued, "My songs do not give hope to the despairing. They do not warm the hearts of lovers and give them hope for the future. They do not silence the beast that lies in the hearts of humanity and alien-kind. My songs spur them to acts of insane courage and atrocity; they bespeak of a paradise that waits only for the worthy, for warriors worthy of the name…"

"Aria…" now Platina's voice was sharp, "You are not weak. You never have been. You endured so much for me, sister, and I will never forget that. And Lucian loves you as much – if not more – as he does me."

Aria reddened, and she turned to stare at her sister as if the latter had grown a second head. The dark-haired Betelgeusian girl found herself unable to answer, the image of a smiling Lucian a solar flare that blasted away the darkness in her soul and the madness that lurked at the edges of her mind. _Be strong_, he whispered. And she nodded, reaching out to that image's outstretched hand, feeling the despair wither as she did so.

'_And fear not.'_

**(O)**

**March 20****th**** 3567 A.D., Esthar City Leonhart Dojo, 1450 hrs**

The Leonhart Dojo was located at the eastern end of the city, at its outskirts, at the top of a hill that boasted a magnificent view of the city that the ancestors of the dojo's owners had given their lives to defend. Surrounded by woods and forests, it guaranteed privacy for both its owners and its students. Although named after one of the heroes of the Ultimecia Affair – who was also the illegitimate son of the Esthar's president during that period –and regarded as a national treasure, it had less than a hundred students. The reason for this was due to its headmaster, Ares Almasy, the descendant of Seifer Almasy and Kamigari Fujin.

Unlike his father, Chris Almasy, during whose tenure the dojo boasted close to five hundred students, Ares was of a more of a traditionalist. Believing in quality over quantity, he instituted to what amounted to a purge of his father's school. It caused an uproar; many of Chris Almasy's students were the sons and daughters of Antarian nobles. But, in the face of a man who had saved a Prince of Antares and faced down an Ork Warlord single-handedly and won, their threats were akin to the braying of donkeys: annoying and little else. Ares Almasy was lean and well-muscled despite his 47 years, and his blue eyes were the windows to a cold hell whose gates are barred only by the same fierce will that had granted him victory over a monster all those years before.

Lucian took in a deep breath as his every step brought him closer to the training hall. The Leonhart Dojo was more than just a home and a training ground; it was a memorial to those who were long gone, raised by a man who would attain his cherished dream of vanquishing his rival, but whose pride would never forgive him the fact that he had betrayed their home and everyone living on it. The enormous graveyard that housed close to ten thousand souls belonged to young men and women whose lives were extinguished in the Ultimecia Affair was located in the Almasy estate, their weapons serving as grave markers in place of gravestones. Engraved on each weapon was the name of its owner, and an epitaph to ease the soul's way to Heaven. Lucian had stood in the centre of that graveyard many times. Surrounded as he was by a forest of weapons beneath the light of the moons and the stars of Midgard, with the enormous memorial that was a replica of that which was on Astarte's Throne, he could almost hear the voices of these warriors who had long ago crossed the river. He could hear the desperate struggle against a titanic army whose numbers approached millions – all to buy time for several of their own to bring an insane demigoddess down.

And that demigoddess, Lucian remembered from the story his teacher had told him, been one of the organization's own. The boy knew everything about the Organization; it was hard for anyone in the galaxy not to. For one, they were one of the most famous (or infamous) mercenary outfits in the entire galaxy. For another, their ranks were replete with young men and women who were orphans. And lastly, the missions SeeDs undertook pitched them against odds that even a Ctarl-Ctarl of the warrior caste would refuse to go up against. The sinuous sigil that was the emblem of the SeeD Organization was synonymous with insane courage, ruthless cunning, unorthodox battle-tactics and soldiers the equal of Lordaeron's Throne Guard.

Lucian turned his gaze onto the marble frieze that dominated one entire wall, the image depicting Seifer Almasy's triumph over his adversary. He stood like the Archangel Michael himself, wings spread, expression triumphant, his bloodied gun-blade held high over the broken body of his rival, who laid bleeding and dying in the dirt. It had been commissioned by President Arshad ten years ago, as thanks for Lucian's master accepting the former's children into the school. In a moment of anger, Lucian had asked his master why the latter had done so.

"_The SeeD Organization is the legacy of the galaxy's unending strife, taken a step further and shaped by men and women who saw a chance to benefit from the bloodshed and chaos,"_ his teacher had told him, _"It is a shade of truth you are all too familiar with, Lucian. The graveyard within my estate is a reminder to me as it was to my great-grandfather that I am a child of SeeD. I have done my best to gather all the descendants of Balamb Garden's SeeDs, and to train them in their ways. _

"_Yes, Lucian – you, as much as Arshad's children and myself, are a child of SeeD. My aim is to restore the legacy my ancestor destroyed. It is no easy task, but I will see it done. After all, you are…"_

"Lucian!" a voice called out, breaking him out of his reverie, "What's wrong?"

**(O)**

_Let us digress for a brief moment, Master Kouryuo. Tell me, what do you know of the SeeD Organization? Nothing…? Excuse me? I am not surprised. It is the oldest trick in the book, but its effectiveness is undeniable. First, wipe all memory of its existence from the history books, then reduce it to a creation of one very imaginative game designer and _voila!_ They have never existed. The irony of it all was that SeeD was the brain-child of the one you name after your God's mightiest servant – the Archangel Michael._

_No, it was not this Michael – not the one who seeks to destroy a man unworthy of his wrath and who in turn is hunted by one of the Fiery Lord's kin – but his predecessor, the 416__th__ Michael, who created SeeD. And that Michael was not a man, but a woman. Yes, Lord Kouryuo, you heard me correctly: the 416__th__ Lord Archangel was a woman. No, I am not lying. Metatron, as you fully well know, is not above elevating women to positions of power. If said woman is Eye of God material, then Metatron will move mountains to ensure that she becomes one – or, at the very least, the aide of one. Take Rubella for instance. The Sorceress Queen got to where she is today by being very good at her job – and then some. _

_I am aware that the position of Lord Archangel is one normally filled by a man. It has been Lordaeron's way for many centuries. But, in this, I must ask you this: are the High Lords of the Order not pragmatic? If you were in their shoes, who would you choose to fill the position of Lord Archangel? A man who is courageous, who can inspire his troops to stand against overwhelming odds, whose skills in battle are second to none – or a woman who has foresight, strategic ability and who can bleed her enemy white even though she is losing? The choice would be obvious – but you would second the man to her._

_The name of the woman who held the position as the 416__th__ Lord Archangel and who created SeeD was Elsa Kramer. SeeD's purpose was simple: it was to serve as a refuge to children and exiles that had no homes to return to, to give them a purpose as well as friends and family that will never betray them. SeeD served as Lordaeron's vanguard and strike force for over a century before relations between them started to deteriorate. Both the Purists and the moderate factions in Lordaeron hoped to bring the SeeD Army under its control, the better to strengthen each of their respective factions. The reason for this is because the SeeD Army is, unlike the Legions, outside the control of the High Lords. With SeeD under the control of either faction, it would only be a matter of time before armed hostilities erupted between them. Seeing this, several of the Horsemen proposed an idea to both SeeD's Chapter Masters and the High Lords in light of escalating hostilities between the factions._

_They would cast the SeeD Army from Lordaeron. The Chapter Masters of SeeD, to the last one, agreed. Old favors were called in, and my people helped to train and equip what would become the most feared mercenary army in the entire galaxy. And that was how the SeeD Organization was formed. To call upon the services of the Organization was to pay a planet's ransom, but all who did had very little reason to be disappointed. SeeD fears nothing, and never fails – that was their motto. And believe me, it is one that reminds all who face them of the caliber of their adversaries. _

**(O)**

Lucian turned his head to see two of his childhood friends, Darren and Sifania, walking towards him, both dressed in gi, hakama beneath their breastplates and shoulder guards. Despite being three years older, Darren shared so much of his younger sister's features that they were often mistaken by their teachers for twins. The two were children of Guild-master Alexander, who owed over a dozen fishing vessels that plied the Tempest Ocean daily. Both brother and sister had their mother's golden hair and blue eyes, but their father's muscular build. Aria had likened them to Hercules and Atlanta, a fitting parallel if one considered how strong the two were. They wielded their broadswords like they weighed nothing.

"Did you bring what you promised, Darren?"

"What do you think?! Master Ares has only one soft spot, Lucian – and that's your cooking!" the bigger boy replied, "And you know how packed the dojo becomes when your word gets around that you're the duty chef for the day! Even Miss Aseria comes!"

Lucian blushed at the mention of the beautiful wingly professor, the image of her slender, curvaceous form and her cascading crimson locks appearing unbidden in his mind. Sifania whacked her older brother up his head, "Stop teasing him, Darren. You're no different. You think I haven't seen you stare at Miss Aseria when she's not looking? Good grief…you make a Betelgeusian patriarch look tame in comparison."

A melodious laugh made Lucian freeze, even as a slender hand gently squeezed his shoulder with warm affection. Lucian did not need to look to know that Miss Aseria was behind him; he could hear the rustle of her wing's feather and the gentle, lilac scent that whispered to him of dreams he was only starting to understand. Lucian's father had once told him that a boy's – or a girl's – first love will shape to way he or she will love for the rest of their lives. And whenever he looked upon Aseria Solanthia of the Archangel Duchy, he was thankful that lovely wingly was his first love.

"Oh, I do know," Aseria grinned playfully, "and I understand. It's just that little Darren has yet to find a woman who can really make him blush. But, please, Sifania – don't put ideas into your brother's skull. The moment he thinks he is the equal of a Betelgeusian man," and Aseria shook her head, "every pretty girl in this city is doomed."

"Doomed?" Darren's younger sister rolled her eyes, "More like doomed to die laughing! This muscle-head has barely half the charm Lucian has!"

Lucian's face turned red again, "Please do not drag me into this. If Aria…"

"If I what, Lucian?"

Lucian closed his eyes. When it rains, it pours…

**(O)**

Lucian took a guard stance, his hands tightening around the hilt of the training sword as he circled Aria. The dark-haired girl's eyes followed his every movement, her sword raised high over her head. Both their swords were wrapped in protective energies that would prevent any blow from being fatal. Their master believed in allowing his students to get used to the weight of their weapons, and to remind them that that which they held in their hands were not toys – and that every battle was one where one's life was one the line. Guns could end a fight before it began, but there were Techniques that could cover both the distance in a heart-beat while avoiding even the most vicious of gun volleys. And at a distance where guns were rendered ineffective, one's skill in unarmed combat and blades became paramount.

Lucian felt the air pressure around him change, and his eyes widened in horror as he realized too late what was about to happen. Before he could leap out of the way, he was thrown back as Aria's Technique blasted him off his feet like rag doll. When did she…? Even as he fought to regain his balance, the dark-haired girl launched a vicious assault, the sigils on her face glowing white-crimson. Lucian lashed out, catching Aria's sword on the downswing.

The look of insane glee Aria's face made Lucian gulp. He was going home black-and-blue – which would be several shades better than what had happened to Lisa and Matthias, the children of President Arshad. Lisa Loire was being tended to by Miss Aseria, but Matthias was flat on his back, out cold and covered with enough bruises to warrant the use of a healing Technique. He shivered; Aria pulling her punches was the day Hell froze over. The sigils on her face lit up again and the look on her face nearly made Lucian wet his hakama. Aria leapt back, before lunging forward, the barrage of blows forcing Lucian to block each one before he managed to catch Aria's sword and push it down, effectively terminating the Technique she had executed earlier.

"Are you…trying to…kill me, Aria?" Lucian panted, glaring into Aria's crimson eyes.

"Of course," Aria tried to break the lock, and her lips curved into a grin, "That Technique was meant for you. Matthias was only the test dummy."

Lucian sweat-dropped, "I'm never lending you any of my games ever again! Are you trying to imitate Squall Leonhart's Omni-slash Technique? That is meant to kill monsters the size of battle-tanks! Are you…!"

Aria's leg lashed out, cutting Lucian off and smashing him to the ground. And this time, Aria executed an upward blow that sent Lucian's sword flying from his grasp, effectively disarming him. Now there was no way Lucian, flat on his back and without a weapon, could win the match. Before the boy could recover, his adversary pinned him down with her sword. Lucian's head shot up to meet Aria's gaze. The latter was grinning.

"This match is mine, Lucian."

Lucian drew in a deep breath, before letting it out, "This time."

And behind them, the other students of the Leonhart Dojo clapped, and its master nodded in approval. But then, suddenly, the city's air-raid sirens started to sound, and emergency speakers and holo-screens broadcasted a warning of an enemy fleet approaching the planet. When a thunderous explosion shook the dojo and threw both its instructors and students off their feet, they knew that war had come to their home-world.

"Ares…!" a woman came rushing in.

"Sheila! What is going…?" Ares shouted over the explosions that were landing precariously close to his estate.

"Orks…! An Ork war-fleet has gated in-system! Some of their ships are holding orbit above the city!"

For the first time in his life, Lucian saw his master's face go pale, "Get everyone to the shelters beneath our house, Sheila! Hurry…!"

**X X X**

_March 20__th__ 3567 A.D. was the day the Horologii Beta star-cluster would suffer an invasion by the Ork horde led by the Warlord known as Kerak Broken-Fang. The Broken-Fang is a Tsar-Kor Ork who led one of the largest coalitions of Ork tribes in known space. Hundreds of worlds and colonies have burned in the wake of the Broken-Fang's incursions__._

_The Kingdom of Antares and the Church of Lordaeron deployed hundreds of thousands of men to expel the Orks from the system. Three SeeD Gardens made a full combat-deployment throughout the seven-planet system with orders to slaughter each and every Ork they found. When the war ended ten months later, over seven billion souls – including those taken away by the Orks to be slaves – were lost._

_But in the ten months when the war raged, the people of Midgard suffered horribly. _

_**To be continued…**_


End file.
